


There's a Devil Sitting on My Shoulder

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Deals With The Devil, Demon, Demonic Contract, Eventual Smut, F/M, Human AU, Human/Demon au, I have too many ideas and no control, Revenge, Slow Burn, Smoking, cursing, selling her soul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9685472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Marianne agrees to a wager with a demon named Bog King





	1. A Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Damonicus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damonicus/gifts).



Rain came down in sheets blurring the outside of the vehicle as Marianne struggled with her steering wheel, speeding through the city streets trying to put distance between herself and her wedding party. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life and instead it had turned into a nightmare. 

Marianne was still in her wedding dress, a poofy monstrosity that barely fit in her Impala, the skirt was so high up that she was constantly pushing it down while she drove. Her long hair stuck up in a mess from where she had yanked her veil off, tossing it angrily into the passenger seat, and her makeup was a smeared messed across her eyes and down her cheeks, her lipstick a flash of angry red across her lips from her wiping the back of her hand across it. 

She sniffled, angrily wiping the back of her hand across her nose. She had been crying up until a few minutes ago. Her heart was completely broken. On her wedding day she had found her fiance, the man she had been about to swear her love to, ready to give herself to, heart and soul...she had found him in the arms of one of her bride's maids!! Oh and not just kissing...oh no...he had the bride's maid up against the wall, fucking!! Fucking that...that bitch of a bridesmaid, up against the wall, ON THEIR WEDDING DAY!! 

Marianne snarled, her sadness being quickly replaced by an anger so hot and burning that she almost turned the car around so she could direct it at Roland, the fucker she was going to marry. Instead, she kept driving straight, heading out of the city. She didn't really have a goal in mind, only to keep going. 

She was going too fast, the streets were slick with water, the windshield wipers were struggling to remove the rainwater fast enough for her to see, when a cat—she thought it was a cat—dashed in front of her. 

Marianne screamed, throwing the steering wheel to the side, the car whipping around, the tires skidding across the damp street. Marianne saw the streetlamp. She let out a blood curdling scream throwing her arms up automatically—and then nothing. 

* 

Bog sat in the passenger seat after tossing her wedding veil out the window. Bog looked like a tall, lean, yet board-chested man with features so sharp that his cheekbones along looked like they could cut glass. His thick black hair was slicked back, accentuating his sharp features. He was dressed in a stylish, three-piece suit of black, a blood red tie the only color in the suit, just as the startling blue of his eyes was the only color in his pale face. 

He sat in the passenger seat of Marianne's Impala, his arms crossed over his chest gazing at the limp form lying against the steering wheel. Blood dribbled down from a slice opened across her forehead, bright crimson blood dripped down her face, and fat droplets slowly fell from her chin smacking against the white fabric of her wedding gown. The blood blossomed creating a brilliant red stain on the pure white fabric. 

He watched her for a few minutes more before he cleared his throat. “Marianne Summerfield?” 

His voice was accented, slightly gruff, but it was a charming voice, a voice that could convince someone to sell their soul. Which was exactly what he was here to do. Certainly he had others capable of performing this task, and many had been, were currently, and would continue to do just that. But some days, he liked to get out and do the work himself. 

“Marianne Summer field, could you please do me the courtesy of looking at me when I'm speaking?” Bog sighed. Sometimes his job was so annoying. Being a demon was filled with impolite people and some days it really grated on his nerves. 

The young woman finally sat up with a groan turning to look at him. She jerked in surprise. “Who? What? How? Where am I?” 

Bog frowned. She was...pretty. Cute really, with her large golden eyes, petite features...beautiful. He almost physically shook himself to banish those thoughts. He had seen many beautiful women over the years and he was far too savvy to be caught up by such vanities. 

She looked around, seeing that her car had crashed into the pole. She gingerly touched her forehead, her fingers coming away bloody. 

“Who are you? I don't understand....” Marianne winced and then groaned as a wave of dizziness washed over her. 

“Marianne Summerfield. My name is Bog King. I'm here to make you a deal.” He smiled, the hint of fanged teeth showing behind his lips. 

Marianne frowned confused. “Am I dead?” 

The man named Bog shrugged. “Well, that all depends on you.” 

“Me? What?” Marianne blinked her eyes several times. 

“I am here to make you an offer: agree to give me your soul and I will give you back your life.” Bog smiled again. 

Marianne frowned. “Now wait a minute. You're telling me that I'm dead? And you're the devil?” 

The tall, slender man's vivid blue eyes shined brightly as his smile became crooked. “Well, as I said, that is entirely up to you and no I'm not Satan...just a demon.” His smile did not waver. 

“So you're whole spiel on getting my soul is banking on that hope that I just want to live...that's it?” Marianne gave the strange man a look that said she didn't think much of his “deal.” 

Bog frowned looking uncomfortable for a minute. “Well, yeah.” 

“You know what Mr....what did you say your name was?” 

“Bog King.” 

“Mr. King...I just had the worst the day of my life, my heart torn to pieces on my wedding day catching my cheating fiance with another woman. I might just want to stay dead. Ever think of that?” Marianne glared at him. 

Bog frowned. “You do?” 

“I didn't say I did—I just said I might.” Marianne leaned back in her seat crossing her arms over her chest, the blood on her wedding dress was dark against the white fabric. 

She frowned glancing down at the spreading stain. 

“Well, what else would you want for you soul?” Bog looked confused. Usually just offering their life back was enough. 

“I...I want you...I want you to...help me destroy Roland Knight.” But then in the next breath Marianne sighed. “No...nevermind.” 

Bog watched her curiously. 

Marianne felt fresh tears at the corners of her eyes. “I really thought I had found love this time...that Roland was the one I was going to spend my life with..I mean, even evil people find love...it has to exist doesn't it?” Marianne turned to look at her personal demon sitting next to her. Bog studied her then smiled slowly showing just a hint of fangs again. 

“So despite all evidence to the contrary, you still believe in love?” he asked softly. 

“I guess I do.” She sighed at the absurdity. 

Bog snorted. “Love doesn't exit...or at least it only does for those rare few, for the beautiful people in the world. The ugly, the unwanted never find love.” 

Marianne, her ire raised, glared at the demon. “How would a demon even know anything about love, eh?” 

Bog looked affronted. “Demons love...some demons do.” 

“What about you?” Marianne turned to look at him curiously. 

Bog frowned. “We are not talking about me.” 

Marianne snorted at him. 

At first her personal demon looked affronted by her snort. He stuck his long nose in the air and turned away from her. Marianne chuckled softly. 

Then Bog had an idea. He laughed, a wicked smile forming across his lips. 

“Then I have a deal for you. I will give you back your life, a year and a day only. If you can find true love...real love in that time, prove to me that it's real true love, then you can keep your soul and your life. But if you fail...I get both, your life and your soul.” 

Marianne frowned in thought. “What if I said no.” 

“Then you die. Though you would get to keep your soul.” Bog shrugged. 

“I would die right now?” Marianne frowned saying the question softly, more like she was speaking to herself. 

“Yep, right now.” Bog smiled, his eyes glowing for a moment. 

Marianne had to think. Part of her, the freshly heartbroken part, told her that she would never love again, that there was no such thing as true love. Why not end it now, just let go. But the other part of her, the part that wanted to fight, to deny this...whatever he was...demon...wanted to prove him and his snotty accented and stupid face wrong! But then she thought of her sister. Her little sister Dawn would be devastated if she was dead and then there was her father to think about. Her father! Her dying would kill him! He had already lost their mother, to lose his daughter too might be more than her father could bear. 

But, if she had a year and a day...if she didn't find love in that time she would at least have the time to say her good-byes...to prepare. Was it worth the risk? 

At that moment Marianne decided it was... 

She put her hand out to him. “You have a deal, Bog.” 

Bog chuckled taking her hand. “The deal is made.” 

Marianne felt a strange tingle up her arm that spread to her head making her feel dizzy. She blinked hard a few times, struggling to remain conscious, but whatever was happening was dragging her down into darkness. She heard the demon's voice speaking to her. His voice was warm, soothing, and sexy. 

“Go to sleep Marianne...go to sleep.” 

* 

Marianne's eyes fluttered open. She let out a groan that hurt her throat and then her whole body decided to make her aware of how much it ached. She made another moan trying to move, but she felt heavy. Just as she finally had forced her eyes fully open she heard a high pitched squeal that had her wincing from the sound. 

“Marianne!! Marianne can you hear me?!” Suddenly Marianne's vision was filled with the sight of her sister Dawn's big blue eyes and bright blonde hair. 

“Dawn?” Marianne's voice cracked, but then on her other side she saw her father. 

“Daddy?” Marianne murmured. 

“Oh honey, we are so happy to see you.” Her father reached out and stroked her jaw. Marianne could see the tears in his eyes. 

“What happened?” Marianne's voice turned into a painful croak causing her to wince. 

“You were in an accident sweetheart, after you left the wedding.” Her father held her hand while he spoke; it was clear he was struggling to hold back tears but they had started to spill from his eyes. 

Dawn picked up from her father after turning around to pour her sister a cup of water. “You drove off apparently after finding Roland cheating on you and you crashed into a pole. The doctors weren't sure you were going to make it, but I knew you would!” Dawn grinned holding the cup to Marianne's lips after their father adjusted the bed for her. 

Marianne groaned softly. The water tasted so good! 

* 

A few minutes later the doctor came into the room with a nurse to check her vitals, run a few simple tests. She had suffered a concussion, (there was no bruising on the brain and in a few days they would know if there were going to be any lasting affects), a few broken ribs and she would have a scar across her shoulder, but otherwise she was remarkably healthy. The doctor told her that because of the severity of the accident, she was luck to be alive and to have escaped relatively unscathed. But the best news was that they were going to release her in the next forty eight hours if everything seemed well. 

* 

A few hours later Marianne was alone in her hospital room. She had sent her sister and father home to rest and to let her rest. The TV in her room was on, but she wasn't really watching it. She frowned, her mind going over the strange dream she had while she was unconscious. It had been so odd. It felt a little dream-like, but...real too. 

As she mused to herself, a smooth, accented voice inquired, “How are you feeling?” 

Marianne jerked, eliciting pain, and she grabbed her side in pain to see the man from her dream. He was wearing a dark grey suit this time with a tie a perfect shade of blue that matched his eyes. 

“God! You could at least warn me!” Marianne held her side. 

Bog chuckled. “No God here princess. Besides, where's the fun in that?” 

“Don't call me princess,” Marianne growled. 

Bog chuckled. “Alright tough girl.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose in disgust, but let “tough girl” pass. “So what are you doing here? Am I dreaming...is this me having an hallucination? I did hit my head really hard.” 

“I am not a figment of your overactive imagination tough girl. I am a demon, a real demon. And I'm just checking in on my investment. Did I forget to tell you that? I mean about popping in now and again?” 

“You did,” she growled . 

Bog shrugged settling back in his chair and looking up at the TV with a smirk. “Well, you are just going to have to get accustomed to it.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at him. 

Watching the TV, Bog snorted. 

“The Bachelor?” He chuckled. “You ever notice that it is only good-looking people they have on here looking for love...never ugly people.” He crossed one of his long legs, his long fingers wrapping around his knee. Evertything about Bog King, demonic investment specialist, seemed to be long, Marianne noted. 

Marianne frowned up at the TV. “I wasn't watching it...it's stupid...but yeah...you're right, but this is TV.” 

“Don't you think that TV influences people? Causes them to think they are unworthy of love?” Bog lifted a brow in query to her. 

She shrugged. “Well, I suppose so...” 

They were both quiet until Marianne asked. “So...are you like...always around?” 

Bog chuckled. “Don't worry, I don't watch you dress or go to the bathroom.” 

Marianne glared at him. “Good.” 

He chuckled again. “Yes, I'm always around and if you need me, you just say my name and I will be there.” 

Marianne seemed to contemplate this for a few minutes. “I just say Bog.” 

He nodded. 

“Why would I need you?” Marianne scowled. 

Bog shrugged his shoulders. “You never know...you might get into another car accident.” 

Marianne made a face at him “Haha...” 

She turned away, but then slid her eyes sideways watching his profile. His features were sharp...he was handsome in a rugged, angry sort of way. 

“What kind of name is Bog anyway.” Marianne looked back up at the TV. 

“It's an old name,” he replied without looking at her. 

“How old?” Marianne was genuinely curious. 

“Old” was all he said. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. For a possible hallucination, he was stubborn. 

“So, you weren't always a demon? Having a name like Bog King doesn't seem very demon-like.” Marianne turned to face him with a minimal amount of movement to avoid further discomfort. Now she was curious. 

Bog frowned. Clearly she had hit on something. 

“What do you think demons are suppose to be like?” Bog turned to face her again, his blue eyes full of humor. 

“I don't know...big, scary monsters?” Marianne frowned in thought. 

“Would you sell your soul to a fanged monster?” Bog quirked a brow. 

“I suppose not...” Marianne shrugged. 

“No. I was not always a demon. I was human once.” Bog didn't look at her when he spoke, his eyes on the TV program. 

“What happened? Did you sell your soul?” Marianne asked, her voiced hushed. 

Bog frowned still not looking at her. “I did something stupid...for love...only to find out too late it wasn't real love at all...at least not on her side.” Bog turned those sparkling blue eyes on her and glared 

“Why do you care?” 

“Just curious. Do you have a demon form?” She asked curiously, actually surprised that he had told her as much as he did. Being a demon, he could—just like any mortal for that matter—lie, but she felt that he had uttered the truth. 

“Yes.” Bog turned away from her. 

“Can you show me?” Marianne's eyes brightened. 

“No.” Bog refused to look at her. 

“Why not?” Marianne pouted. 

“Because.” Bog stubbornly watched The Bachelor. 

“Is there a way you can stop being a demon?” she asked. 

Bog pressed his lips together still not looking at her. “Yes.” 

“How?” She stared at him intently. 

“I'm not going to tell you,” Bog grunted. 

“Fine.” She huffed laying back on her pillow. 

They sat their quietly watching The Bachelor when Bog growled. “I knew he was going to give a rose to Brittany, but he should have given it to Elizabeth. Idiot.” 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, you're right. Elizabeth is much sweeter.” 

Bog nodded. “But I bet she has a spine of steel especially after what she has been through.” 

Marianne frowned. “Though he did give a rose to Alicia and she seems pretty nice.” 

Bog nodded in agreement. “True, true. Maybe he isn't a completely lost cause.” 

Marianne smiled. “She seems really nice. Who do...” 

But that was when a nurse came bustling in. “Time to take your vitals!” 

“Oh ah, sorry about him..” Marianne pointed to the chair where Bog had been sitting, but turned to see that he was gone. 

The nurse looked at her quizzically and Marianne shrugged. “Sorry, just tired.” 

After the nurse left, Bog didn't return. Marianne stared at the chair waiting for him to come back, but he never did. With a sigh she pulled her blankets up and rolled over closing her eyes. Within moments she had fallen asleep. 

That was when Bog appeared at her bedside. He stood there staring down at her, his face unreadable, but his eyes glowed softly for a moment. He reached out is long fingers and stroked back her hair, a small frown marring his features. 

Then just as silently, he was gone.


	2. He Just Won't Go Away

It was Marianne's last day in the hospital. They were releasing her tomorrow to go home. She was still suppose to be on bed rest for the next two weeks, but at least it wouldn't be in the hospital. Bog hadn't appeared to her again, which had Marianne wondering for the hundredth time if he was simply a figment of her imagination. 

She was lying in her hospital bed reading a book that Dawn had brought her. It was some stupid romance novel, but the plot was actually pretty good. She looked up from her book when she heard a knock at her door. Marianne frowned slightly. “Yes?” 

The door opened and the first thing she saw through the door frame was a bouquet of roses. Not just any roses, but great, big full red, red roses. Marianne frowned “Daddy?” 

“No Buttercup, though if you want me to be your daddy I'm happy to play along.” Roland stepped into the room carrying the roses and smiling his perfect smile. He waggled her eyebrows at her. 

“What are you doing here?” Marianne snarled, her heart rate rising. 

“Yes, what are you doing here?” 

Marianne's head whipped around to see Bog sitting in the chair, his long legs crossed. The expensive looking pair of black and silver calfskin wing-tipped shoes—one foot tapping in agitation—matched with an elegant slim fit suit of navy blue. The dress shirt he wore underneath was a darker shade of blue, without a tie this time, the top button opened. The two shades of blue made the demon's blue eyes pop in his pale face. He smiled, the fangs only a hint behind his lips which could be dismissed as the dim hospital lighting of the room. 

Roland looked taken aback. 

He sneered. “Who the fuck are you?” All pretense of being polite had just evaporated from Roland's demeanor. 

Bog chuckled. “Such language. I am Bog King. Marianne's...” He glanced at her then smiled again. “Her friend.” 

Roland turned to Marianne. “Who is this guy?” 

Marianne pushed herself up to a better sitting position. “My friend. Which you are not,” she said with a dangerous narrowing of her eyes. “Get out Roland.” 

“Hey now Buttercup. I'm your fiance! I thought, you know, we could talk.” He smiled trying his best to be charming. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes further. “Oh don't you 'Buttercup' me Roland Knight. You cheated on me! On our wedding day!!” 

“You left me at the altar!” Roland whined. 

“I almost died!!” Marianne threw her blankets back and started to get up, but suddenly Bog was there, a hand on her shoulder. “You do not need to be getting up Marianne. Let me handle this.” 

Marianne started to say something about fighting her own battles, but Bog moved swiftly, taking the roses from Roland and tossing them onto Marianne's hospital table. He then grabbed Roland's arm and smoothly twisted it behind Roland's back, holding it in place while his other hand came down hard on Roland's shoulder. 

“The lady does not want to talk to you. I suggest you leave now before I give you a reason to have to stay in the hospital.” 

With that Bog kicked the door open, promptly tossed Roland out of the door and slammed it shut. 

Marianne started to laugh. “OH MY GOD! His face!” 

She winced in pain, but continued to chuckle. Bog gave her a smooth bow. They both heard Roland try the door again, but it wouldn't open for him . He started yelling. 

“Marianne! Honey! Buttercup! Come on!! Let's talk!” 

Then they heard someone speaking in a low voice and Roland arguing. “That's my fiancee in there! I don't know! Some guy threw me out! What do you mean she has no visitors? I saw him!” 

A moment later the door opened and a nurse stepped in. 

“Miss, is this man someone you know?” She pointed at Roland who was now being held back by some BIG male nurse. Marianne grinned. “I've never seen him before.” 

Roland screeched. “MARIANNE!” 

The nurse glanced around Marianne's room. “Do you have a visitor?” Marianne turned to look, but Bog was gone. 

“Nope, just me.” Marianne smiled with a little shrug of her shoulders. 

“Sorry about the disturbance, Miss.” The nurse smiled and left closing the door behind her. Marianne started to laugh turning to thank Bog, but he had not reappeared. 

She wrinkled her nose. “That's going to get old fast.” 

* 

The following day her father and Dawn brought her home. Marianne had her own nice cozy apartment on the north side of the city. Her apartment was a small studio with exposed brick walls, with a tiny, but neat kitchen and a set of dark purple curtains that divided up the bedroom from the kitchen. The little living room was an extension of the tiny kitchen with a small brown love seat and two small brown chairs. There was a large window that opened up into the kitchen and a small window in the section that held her small double bed. 

Dawn and her father helped bring her in and settle her into her tiny bedroom. Dawn carried in her own bags since she was going to be staying with her big sister for a couple of weeks until Marianne was fully recovered. 

“Alright girls,” her father said. “Why don't you get settled and I will run down to that local Chinese restaurant and get us some take-out, alright?” Dagda leaned in the “doorway” to Marianne's bedroom while Dawn helped her into the bed. 

“That sounds great Dad, thanks!” Marianne winced as Dawn tucked the blankets around her. 

After their dad left to procure food, Dawn climbed onto the bed next to her sister. “So—Roland...” 

Dawn grinned leaning against her sister. 

“Ugh.” Marianne grabbed one of her pillows and covered her face. 

“I can't believe he had the balls to show up yesterday.” Dawn made a face which Marianne mirrored. “Oh I do. He is such an ass, I'm sure he thought I would want to see him.” 

“How did you get rid of him?” Dawn asked hopping up and walking over to the kitchen. “Oh I brought some soda over before we picked you up. Want one?” 

“Sure thing, thanks Dawn.” Marianne pulled the blankets up further while he sister poured them each a soda into glasses and returned to the bed. 

“So how did you get rid of him? You didn't say.” Dawn handed her sister a glass before retaking her seat on the bed. 

Marianne sipped her soda trying to think of a way to answer her sister. “I, ah...I just told him I didn't want to see him again.” 

Dawn wrinkled her nose. “And he listened? Weird.” 

“Yeah, weird.” Marianne nodded with a sip of her drink. 

* 

The sisters talked for a while until their father returned with food. They ate and talked some more until early evening when it was clear that Marianne was exhausted. 

“Alright, I'm going to head home,” Dagda said with a smile at his daughters. “You girls don't have too much fun.” He chuckled giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. 

Marianne grumbled. “And here I was planning on going dancing once you were gone!” 

Her father laughed. “I bet you were. Keep her out of trouble Dawn.” 

“Or in it!” Dawn grinned like a cat. 

“I love you girls.” Their father waved and quietly left to go home. 

Marianne yawned again and Dawn smiled. “You look tired. You wanna shower now or hit the hay?” 

“I want to shower, but I am so tired!” Marianne sank down in her bed. 

Dawn kissed her sister's cheek. “Get some sleep. I'm going to go camp out on the loveseat.” 

“Are you sure ? We could share the bed,” Marianne asked, but Dawn waved her off. “You need the room sis and you don't need me rolling on you. Besides, the sofa is comfy! Yell if you need anything.” Dawn gave her sister a sloppy wet kiss on the cheek just like she had when they were little before heading off to grab some blankets and her pillow that she had brought with her from her own place. 

* 

Marianne fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow and her eyes dropped closed. When she opened them again, it was dark. The streetlights outside cast an almost eerie light through her bedroom's one window. She sighed rolling toward the window then went very still; there was a shadow standing there. 

“Don't worry,” a voice that was becoming familiar said. “It's just me.” Bog stepped closer, the light showed more of his figure, but his face was still cast in shadows. A trail of smoke floated up from him as he took a cigarette out of his mouth. 

“What are you doing here? And are you smoking in my apartment?” Marianne frowned starting to push herself up. 

Bog held out his hand. “No, no, you just stay lying down. You need your rest. Don't worry...you won't smell the smoke.” He grinned at her taking another long drag from his cigarette, the hot end momentarily illuminating his face in a red-orange glow. 

Marianne relaxed though she wrinkled her nose. “You didn't answer my question and can you not smoke?” 

“Just checking on you.” Bog smiled, flicking the cigarette away with his fingers. It simply disappeared. His features remained in shadow. The only way she could tell that he smiled was the way the deeper shadows where his mouth should be moved. 

“What if my sister sees you?” Marianne grumbled trying to get comfortable again. 

“She won't unless I allow it...or she surprises me, but it has been many, many years since a mortal has been able to do that.” Bog walked closer and sat on the side of the bed. 

Now that he was sitting next to her, the light from the window showed more of his features. 

Marianne yawned. “Well you better be careful, Dawn is always full of surprises.” 

Bog chuckled. “Thank you for the warning.” The demon held up one long forefinger. “Speaking of warnings. I'm here to tell you that I will be your new neighbor.” 

“New neighbor?” Marianne yawned again with brows lifted in query. 

“Yes, that is correct, I am moving into the apartment next door.” Bog smiled again, crossing his legs and grasping his knee. 

“So—so other people will see you?” Marianne frowned, yawning again. 

Bog laughed. “Yes, though I will still appear to you and only you, once in a while.” 

Marianne's frown deepened. “Wait a minute—old Mrs. Rogers lives next door.” 

Bog smiled. “Not anymore.” 

* 

Bog's newest deal, old Mrs. Rogers (who was slowly dying of heart disease), had exchanged her soul to become a twenty-something busty blonde with six-months to do all the things she hadn't gotten to do in her youth. She was currently in a dance club shaking her new body and having the time of her life. 

* 

“Don't worry tough girl. Mrs. Rogers is very happy.” Bog smiled, but Marianne continued to frown. 

* 

The next morning, Marianne woke up to the smell of coffee, toast, scrambled eggs and Dawn singing at the top of her lungs, “Don't worry about a thing 'Cause every little thing gonna be alright Singing' don't worry about a thing 'Cause every little thing gonna be alright!!” 

Marianne smiled. Dawn had a gorgeous singing voice. When they had been younger they had tried to start their own band with her, Dawn and Dawn's best friend Sunny. 

Marianne rolled onto her back smiling, remembering them in high school practicing in her father's garage. 

“Why did you stop?” 

Marianne had to quickly swallow her squeal of fright grabbing a pillow and covering her face. 

“Marianne, you okay?” Dawn called from the kitchen. Thank goodness the curtains are down, Marianne thought. 

“Yes, yes I'm fine just rolled on my side wrong,” Marianne yelled back. 

“Okay, breakfast will be ready soon! Your pain pills are on the bedside table with a glass of water!” Dawn giggled and returned to singing. 

Bog leaned against the wall next to Marianne's bed with a cigarette held between his fingers and a smirk curling his lips. Today he was dressed in a three-piece suit of tartan print that was black and dark green, a white shirt along with a long slim black tie. He looked...good. For a moment Marianne wondered what that said about her that she was always noticing what the man—no, correction, demon—was wearing? 

Marianne hissed keeping the pillow hovering over her face. “What are you doing here?” 

Bog continued to smirk. “Just saying good morning. I'll be over soon to introduce myself.” 

Marianne scowled. “So what are you doing here now?” 

Bog shrugged. “Polite heads up, didn't want to startle you.” He took a long drag on his cigarette. Marianne glared. “I thought I asked you not to smoke.” 

“You did. I chose to ignore you.” Bog grinned, his fangs showing clearly. 

“You're a jerk,” Marianne hissed back. 

Bog simply chuckled. “Demon, remember.” 

“Okay, here I come!” Dawn came through the curtain carrying a tray of food. Marianne glanced at Bog, but of course he was gone. 

Dawn frowned. “Why do you have a pillow on your head?” 

“No reason. Wow, everything smells great!” Marianne sat up shoving her pillow behind her and dug into breakfast. 

* 

The rest of the morning Marianne waited in nervous anticipation for Bog to show up, but he never did. By the time late afternoon rolled around, Marianne was beginning to think he had just been messing with her. 

The sisters had just finished lunch, Dawn having made them both grilled cheese sandwiches. Dawn was setting up a checkers board in the tiny living room when there was a knock at the door. 

Dawn hopped up. “I'll get it.” Marianne never ceased to be amazed at how much energy her sister possessed. 

“Thanks sis!” Marianne settled back in her seat. She couldn't quite see who was at the door from her vantage point, but she could hear Dawn say, “Sure, come on in!” 

Dawn walked back. She was leading someone who hovered behind her like a great shadow. It was Bog. He looked more “human” than before; the fangs were missing from his smile and the slight “glow” from his blue eyes was dimmer, but it was definitely him. He smiled at Marianne, standing behind Dawn. He was wearing a pair of slim-fit dark grey travelers pants, a dark grey and white casual button down shirt and over that a dark grey sports coat. He managed to look relaxed, wealthy and...pretty good-looking if you liked tall, thin, angular demons, Marianne thought. 

“Marianne! This is Bog King, your new neighbor. I guess that Mrs. Rogers, your neighbor moved out. Weird, huh?” 

“Weird yeah, nice to met you Mr. King.” Marianne put her hand out to him. He stepped around Dawn, reaching out to take Marianne's hand. His long fingers wrapped elegantly around her hand, but instead of shaking he squeezed her hand gently. “A pleasure.” 

Marianne didn't respond except to grunt. 

“I invited him for some tea.” Dawn grinned. “You can sit Boggy and I'll go make tea!” Dawn pranced over to the kitchen as Bog muttered, “It's Bog.” 

Marianne snickered. “Boggy.” 

Bog leveled an impressive glare at her. “Don't you start.” 

Marianne giggled then grinned. “So Boggy, what do you do?” She was speaking loud enough that Dawn could clearly hear. 

Bog narrowed his eyes slightly at her calling him Boggy. 

“I'm in acquisitions.” Bog smiled at her with a knowing look. 

Dawn came back in carrying a tray with a pot of tea and three miss-matched tea cups. “Oh what do you acquire?” 

“Usually intellectual properties.” Bog took the offered cup from Dawn with a bow of his head. 

Dawn nodded. “I'm still in college—arts, I design clothes! My sister here works with our Dad, he runs a some big real estate company.” 

Bog grinned. “So you're a realtor?” 

Marianne made a face. “It's a little more complicated than that.” 

Dawn giggled. “Yeah, but she doesn't look the part does she...well...of course she doesn't right now. I mean she just got out of the hospital. She was in an car accident. But when we were kids she wanted to be in a rock band.” Dawn took a deep breath. 

Marianne sighed. “Too much information Dawn.” 

“Sorry.” Dawn shrugged with a sheepish grin. 

Bog laughed before sipping his tea. “Perfectly alright.” 

* 

They chatted for a little bit longer before Bog excused himself, citing that he had boxes to unpack. Marianne narrowed her eyes at his back watching him leave muttering under her breath, “Sure you do.” 

Dawn hopped back flopping onto her seat. “Well, he seemed nice.” 

“Nice?” Marianne frowned. 

“Yeah, he dresses nice too. AND he has nice eyes.” Dawn smiled at her sister. 

“What?” Marianne frowned. 

“Just saying. You know...” Dawn shrugged picking up the TV remote. Marianne stared at her sister, but Dawn pretended not to notice. 

Marianne wanted so much to yell. “HE'S A DEMON DAWN!! HE WANTS MY SOUL!!” But of course she didn't. Instead, Marianne sighed in frustration... 

This whole situation was surreal. Now she had a demon living next door who could pop in whenever he wanted. AND she had made a deal to find true love or lose her soul and life. How was she going find real love? She was beginning to think maybe she had made a bad deal. She glared at Bog over the top of her cup. He simply smiled at her. 

* 

Later that night, after Dawn had gone to bed and Marianne was showered and comfortably sitting up reading a book, she heard Bog say softly. “Yer sister is very sweet.” 

Marianne jerked, wincing in pain. “Can you give me a warning when you're going to appear like that?” 

Bog chuckled. “Nope. It's too much fun watching you jump.” 

Marianne glared at him in frustration . 

Bog laughed, flopping down on the other side of her bed putting his feet up, setting the heel of one wing-tipped shoe against the toe of the other. Tonight he was dressed in a double-breasted black suit with white stripes paired with a white shirt and black tie. 

Marianne gave him a disgusted look. “How many suits do you have?” 

Bog chuckled ignoring her snarkiness. “So do you have a plan yet on proving to me true love exists?” 

Marianne sighed. “I just got out of the hospital.” 

Bog tapped a watch on his wrist. “Time is ticking away.” 

“You're annoying.” Marianne slumped down in her bed. 

Bog laughed. “Demon remember?” Then he tilted his head to the side just a bit. “So, wanted to be in a band? What changed?” Bog asked as he twisted his hand in the air gracefully, a cigarette appearing. 

“I thought...oh never mind, and why do you care?” Marianne closed her book dropping it onto her nightstand. 

“Just curious.” Bog blew out a long stream of smoke watching it float up to her ceiling. 

Marianne shrugged. “Grew up, realized I wasn't that talented.” 

Bog frowned. “Seems sad to give up on your dreams.” 

“What would you know about dreams?” Marianne crossed her arms over her chest. 

Bog turned to look at her, holding the cigarette between two long fingers. “Even demons dream, tough girl.” 

Marianne frowned slightly studying his face after he turned away. His profile was sharp, long pointed nose, sharp chin. She realized that he was attractive in an odd way. She shook her head. “What could you possible dream about?” 

He smiled wide, the fangs showing to full effect. “You would be surprised, tough girl.” He turned to look back at her. “I think you should consider trying to be in a band again.” 

“Why?” she asked looking down at her hands and tightening her lips. 

Bog shrugged. “You only have a year and a day, that's why....why not live to the fullest while you try to win our bet?” 

Marianne started to say something, but when she looked again, Bog was gone. 

She stuck her tongue out at the space he had just moments ago occupied. 

“Jerk.” 

She frowned in thought though, maybe, just maybe, he was right.


	3. The Devil's Plaything

The soft warm glow of the morning light through her bedroom window woke Marianne up early. She was lying on her back when she woke up. She glanced around half expecting Bog to be there sitting on the bed beside her, but he was nowhere in sight. For a moment she wasn't sure if she was happy about it or a little disappointed. She frowned then made a face sticking her tongue out...you never knew, he could be watching. 

The rest of her day was fairly quiet. She and Dawn watched some TV, which ended up mostly being the two of them making fun of talk shows and laughing themselves silly at some soap operas. Marianne took a nap after lunch, then she and Dawn played a game of monopoly. 

Bog never appeared. Marianne chewed her bottom lip stealing glances at her front door, wondering why he hadn't appeared to her again. She was just beginning to get...worried? Which annoyed her...worrying about a demon. Stupid Marianne, stupid. 

* 

It was early afternoon the following day. Dawn yawned standing up and stretching. “Are you sure you're going to be okay? 

Marianne was sitting on the couch, wearing a pair of pajama pants, white with little pink flowers littered across them, an oversize purple t-shirt and slouchy, thick purple socks, her legs propped up on the living room table. “Yes, you go get a good night sleep in your own bed and you can stop by after school tomorrow. I promise I will be here.” 

Dawn frowned but nodded. “Okay but I'm serious you call if you need anything!” 

“I will. I promise. I'll see you tomorrow night.” Marianne put her arms out making “come here” gestures with her hands. 

Dawn swooped in and hugged her sister. “I wish I could have taken more time off from classes.” 

Marianne gave her a squeeze. “It's fine Dawn. Really.” 

Dawn squeezed her tightly in return. “Promise me this will never happen again. I don't know what I would do without my big sister.” 

Marianne swallowed hard as if she were trying to push the knowledge that she might only have a year down deep; her were eyes stinging as she held onto her sister. 

“I promise Dawn.” 

She hated herself for saying that, for lying to her sister, but who knew? Maybe she would win the bet. 

Dawn released her, standing back for a moment and staring at her sister. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah...yeah I'm fine I promise.” Marianne knew her smile was weak, but it was the best she could do. 

Dawn kissed Marianne's forehead. “I'm going to come by after classes okay?” 

“You don't have to...” Marianne protested feebly. 

Dawn snorted. “Shush, I'll stop and grab some burritos from that place we both like okay?” 

“Oh well if you're going to bring burritos...” Marianne laughed. 

Dawn giggled. “See you in a few hours.” 

* 

After Dawn had headed to class, Marianne watched a rerun of a crime show on TV nibbling on some carrots Dawn had peeled and cut up for her, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders, when she heard a light knock on the door. Marianne frowned, wondering who it could be; she wasn't expecting anyone. She thought about ignoring it, pretending she wasn't home, but when the knock came again she groaned deciding to go ahead and get up. 

She didn't bother looking through the peephole before she opened the door. 

Standing there waiting for her was Bog. 

Today he was looking human, wearing a pair of jeans and a simple white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, shirt untucked. That was when she noticed the tattoos on this forearms. The marks looked like a combination of thorny vines and snakes that raced up under his shirt sleeves. Marianne also noticed that he was standing there with a guitar. 

“May I come in?” he asked with that light accent of his rolling over the words. 

Marianne frowned peering down the hall before she brought her attention back to him. “Why didn't you just pop in?” 

Bog smiled, no fangs visible. “I thought you might appreciate me knocking...since I'm your neighbor and all.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes, not sure if he was playing some sort of game with her, but she stepped away from the door letting him enter. 

“Why do you have that?” She motioned at the guitar as she made her way back to the couch. 

“I thought you might enjoy playing while you convalesce.” Bog set the guitar against one of the couch arms before he took a seat. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at the guitar as if she expected it to sprout arms. 

“It's a perfectly normal guitar I promise you.” Bog chuckled lightly. “It's a Taylor, spruce...it's a big baby...smaller than a regular guitar, but I thought that might be best for you right now since you haven't played in a while and I know you're still weak from the accident.” 

Marianne stared at him. Bog cleared his throat. “There is no catch if that is what you're thinking. This is a gift.” 

Marianne frowned. “Why?” 

Bog looked uncomfortable. “Because, as I said before, you only have a year and a day, why not make the most of it?” 

“You're really sure I'm not going to find anyone aren't you?” Marianne huffed throwing her arms across her chest. 

“I didn't say that.” Bog smirked. Despite looking human, he displayed one of his more infernal talents as he conjured a cigarette. He took a long pull on the cigarette, clearly agitated. 

“I thought I asked you not to smoke.” Marianne sighed reaching over and picking up the guitar. 

Bog chuckled and tilted his head back to exhale smoke straight up. “I don't recall that.” 

Marianne glared at him, strumming the strings of the guitar. It sounded beautiful, perfectly tuned. Bog took another drag on his cigarette watching her. She played a few random chords. Bog smiled crookedly; it was clear how much she wanted to play. 

“Go head,” Bog said softly his blue eyes intent. 

Marianne pressed her lips together unsure, but then she started playing. Bog frowned then, the song sounded familiar, but then Marianne surprised him when she started singing. “Love is a flame, A devil's thing, A violent storm About to be born, Just look in these eyes See all the lies All the things you see You cannot deny...” 

Bog narrowed his eyes, but a smirk danced across his lips. He knew the song, Danzig (a soul that would come due in due course) and the song was called Devil's Plaything. 

Marianne, who had been looking down as she played glanced up, her lips dancing with her own snarky smirk. She continued to play singing the song in a clear and beautiful voice. 

Bog blew smoke out, flicking ashes that disappeared before they ever touched the ground, leaned back and crossed his legs, his fingers playing out the tune on his thigh. 

When she finished Marianne grinned. “That felt good!” 

Bog nodded chuckling softly. “I'm glad you like the gift. Interesting choice of song.” 

He stood up, flicking his fingers, the cigarette disappearing, but at the same time his clothing seemed to melt from the outfit he had worn just moments ago into a three-piece single breasted suit of dark grey, white shirt and matched with a tie that was light blue with a silver sheen to it. The tie caught his eyes making them stand out from the shadows. His fangs were back as he looked down at her. 

Marianne chuckled, but then looked up as Bog stood up, trying to hide her startlement at the sudden change of clothing. 

“Where are you going?” Marianne frowned. 

Bog shrugged. “I have business to take care of.” 

“Another soul to take?” Marianne asked trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Bog frowned looking down at her. “I never take what isn't offered freely Marianne. I didn't take your soul. I offered you an option.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together before she answered. “It wasn't much of a option.” 

Bog shrugged heading to the door. “That's not my fault, tough girl. You still had a choice.” 

Marianne sighed. “I guess...so.” 

Bog reached the door when Marianne asked, surprising herself. 

“Dawn is coming back over tonight with burritos, would you like to come over for dinner?” 

Bog stopped, his hand on the doorknob. Marianne watched his back stiffen, clearly she had surprised him. He turned around slowly to look over his shoulder at her. Marianne felt her heart hit hard against her breastbone. He was really...handsome, in an odd demonic way. 

“What?” He looked genuinely confused. 

“Would you like to come by for dinner?” Marianne stated again, widening her eyes to emphasize her sentence. Bog looked uncomfortable, confused...she could tell he wanted to question her more, but instead he said, “Yes, yes I would.” He smiled just a little, lacking the sarcastic flavor that usually accompanied his smiles. 

Marianne nodded. “I'll give Dawn a call—what kind of burrito do you want?” 

Bog grinned. “Chicken.” 

Marianne lifted a brow at him. “Chicken?” 

Bog chuckled. “Yes.” 

Marianne chuckled softly, but nodded. “Alright. See you tonight, around eight.” 

“Eight then.” Bog bowed before he slipped out her door. 

* 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip in thought. Now why on earth had she done that? It was because he gave her the guitar...that had to be it. She felt like she needed to thank him or something, or make an even exchange—one gift for another. She wrinkled her nose making a face, but then she forgot about her confusing thoughts as her fingers started to pick out other songs she knew...the music easing her mind. 

* 

When Marianne called Dawn, she had to leave her a message since her little sister was probably still in class, letting her know that her neighbor Bog would be joining them for dinner. Dawn called back a couple of hours later in squealing excitement. 

“Did you go over there and invite him for dinner? Wow! Marianne I didn't think...nevermind that is so great!” How Dawn managed not to breathe between sentences Marianne would never know... 

“He brought me a gift after you left, I thought having dinner would be a repayment,” Marianne said, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder while she strummed her fingers over the guitar. 

“What did he bring you?” Dawn asked eagerly. 

“A...a guitar,” Marianne answered softly. 

“What?? How did he know you used to play?” Dawn asked in surprise. 

“I...he didn't. He just thought since I was stuck inside that I might like to learn,” Marianne lied. She sighed...she had already lied twice to her sister since meeting Bog. How many more lies was she going to tell!? 

“Wow, that's really cool. You know, I only met him the once, but I really like Boggy. He seems like a good guy. Okay, well I will be there in an hour or so with food!” Dawn squeaked. “I love you Mari, you rest! Be there in a jiffy!” 

“Love you too Sunflower.” Marianne said with affection. 

Dawn laughed. “Oh God you haven't called me sunflower in ages! You sure you're alright?' 

“I'm fine. See ya soon.” 

“Okay, off for food!” The two sisters hung up. Marianne smiled down at the guitar as she played softly. 

* 

No sooner had she hung up her cellphone than Marianne gasped, grabbing her chest when she saw Bog sitting beside her. This time he was dressed in a white dress shirt with a navy and white striped vest, with matching slim fitting slacks that accentuated how slim and long his legs were, the dress shoes this time were grey, double monk strapped shoes that he had resting on her coffee table. The cigarette he held between his long fingers was black. He gave her a hearty laugh when she jumped. 

“What the hell Bog!” Marianne snarled. 

Bog continued to chuckle. “Did you know you're cute when you're angry.” 

Marianne hissed. “What are you doing here?” 

“You invited me to dinner, remember?” Bog took a long drag on his cigarette blowing rings of smoke. For a moment Marianne was reminded of Gandalf blowing smoke rings with Bilbo. She shook the image from her head grabbing a hold of her annoyance and holding on. 

“I thought you would be using the door.” Marianne set the guitar down angrily. 

Bog chuckled. “Have to keep you on your toes.” 

Marianne growled. “I'm beginning to regret inviting you over.” 

“Oh now don't be like that, tough girl.” Bog smiled at her, a charming fanged smile that for a moment she couldn't decide if it was punchable or kissable. 

Marianne sighed. There was no point in getting angry with him, as he would simply point out to her—demon. 

“So, ah...how did your job today go?” Marianne made a face at herself...what a stupid question. 

Bog frowned slightly, clearly confused by her asking but he shrugged. “Middle-aged man had a heart attack, sold his soul for twenty four hours to fuck his heart out at a brothel in Las Vegas he always wanted to visit, but couldn't since he was married with child.” Bog chuckled with a far away look for a moment. “Heart out...didn't realize how funny that was until now.” 

Marianne made a disgusting face. “What an ass hole.” 

Bog shrugged. “Not everyone I deal with deserves what ever it is they sell their soul for...and some souls deserve more than what they ask.” 

Marianne turned sideways on the couch so she would be facing Bog. He seemed sad when he said that last part. “Do you like your job?” 

Bog took a long contemplative drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke slowly out through his nose reminding Marianne of a great old dragon before he spoke. 

“Sometimes I do. I like seeing people who deserve to be punished getting their just rewards.” 

“Have you ever taken a soul you didn't want to?” Marianne asked while tucking her legs under herself. Bog nodded. “Aye, but that doesn't happen often. Besides, the divide between heaven and hell isn't as distinct as you might think.” 

Marianne made a face. “I never did like theology. Tell me one thing, if I lose our bet, what exactly happens to my soul.” 

Bog smiled laying his head back against the couch and blowing a stream of smoke straight up into the air. 

“Really, it depends.” Bog closed his eyes. Marianne thought about questioning him further, but changed her mind. She wasn't really sure she wanted to know the answer and it didn't look like Bog wanted to answer her. She pushed the disturbing thoughts aside, at least for the moment. Though she tilted her head studying him for a long moment. 

Bog didn't move his head, he only opened one eye to look at her when she had grown quiet. “How did you become a demon?” she asked with a tilt of her head. “You said it was because of love, that you sold your soul for love...why?” 

Bog sighed closing his eye again. 

“It's a very long story, but I was given a deal...my soul for hers and I would get it back when she pledged her love to me. She didn't.” Bog inhaled from the cigarette. 

“Why do you care so much?” Bog opened that one eye again, the bright blue of it staring at her pointedly. 

“Just...I don't know...you haven't seemed very demon-like I guess...” Marianne picked up her guitar and started to strum. 

“Known a lot of demons have you?” He smirked closing his eye again. 

Marianne made a face at him, sticking her tongue out and waggling her head back and forth. Bog sat up again when she grabbed her guitar and started to play. 

“How long do you think it would take you to feel confident enough to try out for a band?” Bog sat forward resting, his elbows on his knees. 

Marianne didn't look up as she started to pick out the tune to Sympathy for the Devil. Bog smirked when he recognized the song, but he said nothing. 

“Mmm...I'm not sure. It will take me a few weeks to build up my callouses again.” She paused, her fingers hovering over the strings. “Wait a minute...what?” Marianne's head came up to see Bog smiling at her. 

“This weekend I want you to come out with me. There is an open mike at this tavern...” Bog spoke, but Marianne interrupted him. “Tavern?” 

Bog frowned. “I mean bar.” 

“Open mike? What are you talking about?” Marianne narrowed her eyes, but Bog continued despite her stare. “It's for all sorts of singers, musicians...a lot of people come there on those nights not just to listen, but some are looking for people for their bands and there are even a few record labels that show up occasionally looking for new talent. I want you to go.” Bog smiled then, his fangs displayed. 

“What? I can't! I....” Marianne held onto the guitar tightly. 

“Why not?” Bog have her a genuinely curious look. 

“I...it...I just can't...” Marianne frowned. Bog reached out with his finger, holding it under her chin and lifting her face. She was struck dumb by the touch of his finger against her skin. His finger was slightly rough, but warm. It felt entirely human. 

“You have a year and a day...less a few days now,” he pointed out. “Don't waste any of it Marianne.” He spoke softly, he gazed at her almost tenderly. 

She was about to open her mouth and say something when the door to her apartment opened and Dawn came in. “I got BURRITOS!!” 

She had just shut the door when she stopped dead in her tracks staring at her sister and her sister's neighbor Bog, his finger under her sister's chin. 

Bog snatched his hand away, Marianne noticing at the same time that all traces of a cigarette were gone as well as any of the slight demonic characteristics that he had when around her. 

Dawn's face erupted into a brighter grin as she walked the rest of the way in. “Nice to see you Boggy! I got your chicken burrito! I bought everyone some sweet tea—I hope that's fine Boggy?” 

“Bog, and yes that is perfect, thank you Dawn.” Bog was actually blushing (something he hadn't done in several decades). 

Marianne was blushing too. 

Dawn grinned. Marianne could see it in her sister's eyes that Dawn wanted to say something about catching Bog already here and the fact that he had been touching her, but her little sister didn't say a word. Instead Dawn did her best to act as if she hadn't seen anything...which meant she wasn't doing a good job at all. 

Bog started to get up from the couch. “Here, why don't you sit next to your sister...” 

But Dawn waved him back. “No, no, you stay where you were Boggy. I'm so glad you came over to check on my sister. It really makes me feel a lot better knowing that you're here looking after her.” 

Bog glanced between the two young women blushing more. “Ah...yes, it's no problem at all.” 

Bog sat back down slowly. For a demon that could alter his appearance in minor ways, he was having no luck at suppressing his blush. 

“So, what were you two talking about? Oh and Boggy, Marianne told me you bought her a guitar! That is so cool! I mean I know you didn't know, but she used to play a lot when we were in high school. She really should have never given it up, but....” Dawn shrugged, letting the thought hang. 

“Ah...yes...Marianne was just telling me about that...I was encouraging her to go to an open mike night at this taver....I mean , this bar where they let musicians and singers perform. It's this upcoming Friday night.” Bog glanced at Marianne with a grin on his face. She could have hit him! He knew Dawn would never let it go now!! 

Dawn's eyes widened. “Really? OH MY GOD!! Did you ask Marianne out on a date??” 

Bog jerked. “What? No, no I...” 

Dawn squealed. “OH MY GOD THIS IS SO GREAT!” 

Marianne put her guitar down. “Now Dawn that's not...” 

“You have to go Marianne! Not only could you play and sing you could have a good time with Boggy!! I mean, I know you guys just met and all, but you totally have a chemistry thing going!! This is so great! “ Dawn was nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 

Bog and Marianne both had their hands up trying to calm her down, but Dawn was clearly beyond listening. 

Marianne finally blurted out. “Why don't you and Sunny come with us? Like a double date?” 

Bog glanced at Marianne then nodded. “Yes that might be—fun.” He seemed to almost choke on the word fun. 

Dawn looked between the two of them, then grinned knowingly wagging a finger at them. “Oh I get it, you two are shy. Sure Sunny and I can come! It will be great! What time on Friday?” She turned to Bog who glanced at Marianne. His expression was both triumphant and a little snarky...he knew he had won...he was getting her to go to that damn open mike. 

“Eight o'clock. We could meet here at Marianne's place.” Bog smiled and Dawn squealed. “Perfect! Well, let's dig in before our food gets cold!” 

* 

Later that night after Dawn had left (supposedly following Marianne's neighbor out), Bog had reappeared after Marianne was bathed and snuggled into her bed with her book. The bedside table light was on casting a small spotlight of a warm yellow glow around the bed. This time though Marianne was ready for him and didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her jump in surprise. 

“So, a date huh?” Marianne asked without looking up from her book. 

Bog chuckled. She could smell the rich smell of his cigarette mixed with the slight smell of Cyprus that she was coming to associate with him. She was finding that she liked the way Bog smelled. 

“I suppose so. I haven't been on a date in several hundred years.” Bog chuckled blowing a smoke ring. 

“How old are you?” Marianne placed a finger in her book holding her place as she set it on her lap. Bog chuckled again. “Old.” 

This time he was dressed in a dark brown suit, the jacket sleeves were pushed up, showing the strange tattoos on his forearms. He hadn't buttoned the jacket, it was opened showing off the deep ruby vest underneath with its matching tie. His long legs were crossed at the ankles on her bed. She noticed that his shoes tonight were cap-toe brown oxfords. She even noticed his socks, red and brown stripes. Marianne had to frown at herself and her close attention to her personal demon's wardrobe. 

“What should I wear to this place?” Marianne snuggled back against her pillows glancing sideways at Bog. 

“I'll bring you a dress.” Bog said as he watched the smoke drift above his head. Marianne watched too frowning when the smoke appeared to resemble small snakes swirling and twining with each other. 

“I don't really wear dresses.” Marianne set her book on the table beside her crossing her arms over her chest. 

Bog chuckled. “I know...I'll bring leggings and some boots—trust me, you'll love it.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes at him. “I don't trust you.” 

Bog chuckled. “Good tough girl...never trust a demon.” 

“Not even you?” she asked turning to look at him. Bog turned, his unearthly blue eyes catching hers. He smiled, it was a sad smile. 

“Sweet dreams, tough girl.” 

“Sweet dreams Bog.” Marianne gave him a little smile and just like that, he was gone.


	4. In Hell I'll be in Good Company

The night before their “date”, Marianne was snuggled comfortably into bed, sipping a glass of chocolate milk, reading her book, enjoying the quiet when Bog popped in. He stood on her side of the bed waiting. 

Bog looked at her with a wide amused grin when she jumped at his sudden appearance. 

“DAMN IT BOG!” Marianne nearly threw her book at him, but stopped herself when Bog snickered. 

“You're an ass,” she muttered. 

Tonight Bog was wearing an attractive grey, almost silver colored, double-breasted lapel suit jacket, matching slacks, white shirt and silver tie. Even his dress shoes were a silvery grey. Marianne felt a very unusual warm stirring deep down in her chest, gut...lower...at the sight of Bog standing by her bed. The jacket he wore was cut close to his figure showing off how slim the man—demon—was and heightening the broadness of his chest. His dark hair was slicked back from his face and there was a hint of dark stubble along his jaw. 

Then he grinned at her showing the fanged teeth which only made the weird feeling worse. Marianne pushed whatever it was she was feeling aside as she noticed he held the clothing he had promised her over his right arm. In his other hand he held a leather guitar case. 

Bog chuckled. “Aye, that I am. I brought your outfit for tomorrow.” 

Marianne sat up straighter in bed as he showed her what he had brought. 

As Bog held each part up for her inspection, she could see that the outfit was really...gorgeous, was the word that came to mind. The dress was a mini boho-style that hung loose on her thin frame, with long bell-sleeves trimmed in lace, all of it in a deep dark plum. He had brought her a pair of black leggings and then the boots...the boots had made Marianne's heart skip a beat. She fell instantly in love. The boots were black suede, that had full-length front lace-up panels, with zippers on the side and were flat soled, no heels. 

Marianne could have kissed him! “Oh Bog...wow!” 

Bog bowed. “I did tell you that you would love it.” 

Marianne smirked. “You did.” 

“Are you ready for tomorrow night?” Bog walked around her bed and sat on the other side beside her. He crossed his long legs, conjuring his cigarette. Marianne wrinkled her nose at him, but said nothing. She was getting used to it...and actually enjoyed the smell though she would never tell him that. 

“Yes. Song is all picked out and I think I'm ready.” Marianne made a face, grimacing with nervousness. Bog smiled at her reaching over to pat her hand. 

“You will do fine.” 

Marianne smiled blushing a little. “Thank you.” 

“You might even meet Mr. Right while yer there, who knows?” Bog said this with a strange inflection to his voice. She thought that it almost sounded like...regret? Jealousy? 

Marianne frowned, but pushed the thought away. 

The two of them were quiet for a little while when Marianne asked. “So...how was work?” 

Bog chuckled taking a long drag on his cigarette. “You really want to know?” 

She shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Well tough girl, I had a musician sell me his soul for success.” Bog blew a smoke ring. 

Marianne made a face. “Why?” 

Bog shrugged. “He overdosed, wanted that chance to make it.” 

“Was he any good?” Marianne asked with genuine curiously. 

Bog nodded. “If'n he hadn't been so stupid and killed himself accidentally, he would have made it without my help. Now he has lost his soul and for what? Something he would have achieved anyway if not for his stupidity.” 

Marianne frowned and shook her head. “You think he will still do drugs?” 

Bog chuckled. “Of course he will. Now he thinks he is immortal. His band will achieve success and he will die the very next day from an overdose while celebrating.” 

Marianne paled. “Seriously?” 

Bog grinned, looking every inch the demon. “Seriously.” 

Marianne went quiet. 

Bog took another drag on his cigarette before he asked her quietly, “How was your day?” 

Marianne could tell he felt awkward, but she smiled appreciating him asking her anyway. 

“Oh nothing, just a lot of practicing.” She showed him her hands. Bog flipped his one hand in a graceful movement, the cigarette he had been holding dissappearing along with the smoke, before he gently cupped her hand in his, studying the sore tips of her fingers. “Does it hurt much?” he asked glancing up to meet her eyes. 

Marianne shrugged trying not to blush at his touch or the concern in his demonically blue eyes. 

“Yeah, it's pretty painful.” 

Bog frowned. He could see the grooves in her fingers, the start of a couple of blisters, the red around those areas looked painful. Marianne started to pull her hand away, but went still when Bog lifted her hand to his face and began to gently kiss the tip of each finger. Bog's lips barely touched the tender, sore places but where they did touch, his lips were warm, soft. A tingle spread through her hand, from the point of contact. After he had kissed each finger, Bog reached out for her other hand, taking that hand just as gently as the first and pressing his lips to each fingertip. Marianne just stared at him, unable to say a word, watching him lightly brush each finger with his soft lips. It took her a good minute or more to realize that her fingers weren't hurting. 

Bog let her other hand go with a gentle smile. Marianne looked at her hand in wonderment. The grooves created by the strings were gone, the developing blisters, gone as well, and in their place were new callouses. She looked up at Bog in surprise. 

He smiled softly. “I want you to enjoy playing and singing tomorrow night. I don't want you in pain.” 

Marianne frowned. “What will this cost me?” 

Bog laughed. “Nothing tough girl, nothing at all. We already have a deal, I'm not going to ask more of you...especially not for something so simple as that.” He gestured at her hands taking her hand and pulling them toward him. 

Marianne blushed softly. “Thank you.” 

Bog smiled at her. She saw something pass through his eyes before he looked away and hopped to his feet. “You should get a good night's sleep, tough girl. I'll see you tomorrow night.” 

With that he was gone, one moment there, then in the blink of an eye, he had vanished. 

* 

Marianne spent the whole next day going over the song she had settled on for her performance. She was excited, nervous, sick to her stomach, but if she was honest with herself...excitement was the overpowering feeling in her gut. 

She had just finished dressing, doing her makeup and zipping up her boots when she heard a knock at her door. She frowned knowing Dawn would just knock and walk in. 

She expected Bog to just appear, but when she opened her door, Bog was standing there holding a bouquet of lavender roses. Bog smiled, a completely human smile. “I thought flowers might...I wasn't sure...” He shrugged. 

Marianne blinked in surprise, not just at the gorgeous flowers, but Bog's clear nervousness. “They're perfect, thank you.” 

She took the flowers noticing Bog's outfit. Instead of his usual suits, he wore a pair of slim cut jeans, a black dress shirt, the top buttons of which were undone showing just a hint of his collar and a glimpse of chest. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows once again revealing the strange tattoos on his forearms. Over the shirt, buttoned up, he wore a silver grey vest. One lock of hair was loose along his forehead softening his features quite a bit. 

Marianne stepped back so he could step in while she went to find a vase for the flowers. 

“These are just gorgeous Bog! Thank you!” 

He smiled. “I'm glad you like them.” 

Marianne found a vase and filled it with warm water. Bog walked over and picked up the roses where Marianne had set them on the small kitchen table and began unwrapping the roses. 

“Do you have a knife, a sharp one?” 

Marianne pointed to a drawer. “Right there.” 

Bog pulled out the blade and used it to cut the ends of the flowers at a diagonal before picking them up and placing them in the vase Marianne had set beside him. 

Marianne buried her face among the roses taking a deep breath. Bog watched her with a soft smile. 

“You look good, by the way. Glad you liked the outfit.” 

Marianne brought her face up from the roses. “I admit, you have great taste.” 

Bog laughed taking a bow. “After centuries, one does develop a sense of style I think.” 

Marianne had just started laughing when there was a swift knock and Dawn came bursting in with her boyfriend Sunny in tow. 

“Hey Marianne! Oh, hi Boggy!!” Dawn waved swooping into the apartment. She was dressed in an adorable pair of pleated black and white polkadot shorts, a burned out light blue t-shirt and Oxford ankle boots looking perfect. Her boyfriend was wearing a pair of black jeans, black t-shirt and faux leather jacket with a matching fedora. He waved a little self-consciously. 

Bog sighed. “Bog—hello Dawn.” He gave her a little wave. 

Marianne grinned. “Hey Sunflower!” 

Dawn grabbed her boyfriend's hand and dragged him across the living room toward Bog. 

“Oh Boggy, this is my boyfriend Sunny! Sunny Boggy, Boggy Sunny.” Dawn, her high energy made her seem to glow to Bog's demonic eyes, with a purity of spirit that he admired. The young man with her was shorter than Dawn, with warm mocha colored skin and impressive cinnamon colored hair that was tied back at the base of his neck. The young man was clearly completely smitten with Dawn gazing at her lovingly. He stepped up to Bog, putting his hand out. “Hey.” 

Bog shook his hand with a smile. “Hello.” 

“Oh my gosh! Did Bog bring you those roses?” Dawn grinned brightly rushing over to smell the flowers. 

Marianne blushed and nodded. “Yeah he did.” 

“Boggy those are gorgeous!!” Dawn grinned and gave him a playful push. “Good job Boggy Woggy!” 

Bog smiled, shrugging. 

“Okay guys! Let's go!” Dawn clapped her hands and soon the four of them were stepping out of Marianne's apartment and heading down the stairs to make their way to the bar. 

* 

The place they were headed to was called Mulligan's Pub. The pub was decorated in a Victorian style, with antique mirrors as well as old paintings and photographs on the walls. The floors were old hardwood, the walls painted a rich reddish-orange. The trim, lights and bar stools all had a Victorian feel to them and the bar itself was a heavy, dark wood counter. The tables and chairs were all mismatched and against the far left wall was a small simple stage with neon signs behind it advertising beer and cigars. 

This night the place was crowded. There was already a small three person band on the stage playing a kind of Irish street sound music mixed with rap that Marianne thought was excellent. 

Marianne walked in behind Bog, carrying her guitar case, her eyes wide when she saw the amount of people here. She hadn't been expecting this sort of crowd at all. Bog led her over to the bar while Dawn and Sunny looked for a place to sit, taking Marianne's guitar for her so she could help Bog with drinks. There was a large, older man behind the bar pulling beers. He had an impressive grey beard, the rest of his hair cut short. He wore a simple black shirt with the pub's name emblazoned across the chest. When he saw Bog he put a hand up in greeting yelling. “Hey Bog!” 

Bog waved back. “Brutus, nice to see you.” 

Brutus reached across the bar and the two men grabbed each others arms at the elbow. “So what are you doing here Bog my friend?” 

Bog stood aside to introduce Marianne. “My friend here, Marianne Summerfield, is going to be signing up for the open mic tonight.” 

Brutus smiled at her. “Well any friend of Bog's is a friend of mine.” He reached across the bar again, taking her hand, but instead of shaking it, he leaned down to kiss her knuckles. Brutus then smiled, reaching over behind him to pull down a clipboard that was hanging on the wall. “Just sign up right here, there are only a couple ahead of you.” 

Marianne blushed before she took a deep breath glancing at Bog who inclined his head in encouragement. 

Marianne nodded taking another deep breath before signing her name. 

As they ordered some beers and then made their way over to Dawn and Sunny carrying the drinks carefully through the crowd, Marianne asked. “So how do you know Brutus...I mean is he a...customer?” 

Bog laughed. “Aye he is, gave me his soul for an extra twenty years.” 

“That was all?” Marianne frowned, but Bog nodded. “That was all. He was dying at age 40 from cancer; offered me his soul for another twenty years. I gave it to him, we've been friends ever since.” 

Marianne frowned. “Friends?” 

But then she had to drop the subject as they approached the table where Dawn and Sunny were sitting. 

* 

Before she felt ready, it was Marianne's turn to take the stage. Just as she was getting up to head to the stage, Bog reached out and took her hand. Marianne turned to look at him. Bog smiled up at her and for a brief moment she saw the demonic blue glow of his eyes, the hint of fangs when he smiled. He squeezed her hand. “You got this tough girl.” 

She blushed looking down at him. “Thanks Bog.” 

He gave her hand a swift kiss which sent a rapidly moving wave of heat through her before he let her and go, but somehow that feeling helped calm her nerves as she took the stage. 

* 

When Marianne stepped onto the stage, the butterflies in her gut decided to do a series a backflips and spins. Taking another breath, and with a quick glance at Bog for reassurance, she stepped over to the microphone. Someone had put a stool on the stage for her which she moved closer to the microphone before pulling out her guitar. She smiled at the audience adjusting her position on the stool. She leaned forward, her eyes quickly catching Bog's. He was smiling at her, giving her a nod of encouragement. Marianne swallowed, leaning toward the mic. “The song I'm going to play is called 'In Hell I'll Be in Good Company' by The Dead South and I would like to dedicate it to my friend Bog.” 

Bog looked stunned. 

Marianne gave him a smirk, enjoying the expression on his face just as she began to play, leaning slightly toward the mic. She closed her eyes and started out plucking on her guitar, whistling the tune. After a few moments she stopped whistling and began playing the tune with more vigor. Then she began to sing. 

“Dead Love couldn't go no further, Proud of and disgusted by her, Push shove, a little bruised and battered Oh Lord I ain't comin home with you My lifes a bit more colder, 

Dead wife is what I told her 

Brass knife sinks into my shoulder...” 

She was tapping her foot as she played, fingers flying over the strings, and opened her eyes. The acoustic sound of the guitar was deep and mellow. She looked over the crowd, though her gaze strayed back to Bog who was watching her intently with a smile on his lips. Her fingers moved over the strings quickly and deftly, yet she seemed to also play with ease, her talent obvious to the crowd. 

“I see my red head, messed bed, tear shed, queen bee, my squeeze, The stage it smells, tells, hells bells, misspells, knocks me on my knees, It didn't hurt, flirt, blood squirt, stuffed shirt, hang me on a tree After I count down, three rounds, in Hell I'll be in good company....In Hell I'll be in good company...” 

She played the deep bluesy music, the sounds flowing across the crowd who had started to clap along with the song. She closed her eyes, extending the guitar tones, playing a complicated combination of sounds before leaning toward the mic again. 

“After I count down, three rounds, in Hell I'll be in good company..” 

* 

Bog watched her, entranced. He had never seen or heard anything so beautiful in all his many years. Her voice was clear and stunning, better than any of the singers he had encountered...a strange feeling that Bog had been carrying in his chest, twisted harder around his heart. Something in him broke just a little...a crack that allowed him to feel something more...a feeling he thought he would never feel again... 

* 

Marianne started to whistle the tune again, slowing the beat before bringing the song to an end. Her eyes met Bog's again and she felt that strange burn in her chest. He was looking at her with such a strange expression. There was a pull...she could feel it from the middle of her chest where it seemed to reach out to him, but then the song was over and the crowd erupted into applause. Marianne's eyes snapped back to the crowd, a blush rushing across her cheeks. 

“Thank you...thank you...” she said into the mic before she quickly walked off the stage. 

She was about to make her way back to her table. She really wanted to talk to Bog when someone stepped in front of her. 

She looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes. The man had wavy brown hair, unshaven, chiseled features, perfect teeth and clearly spent a lot of time at the gym, she could tell by the way his grey t-shirt tugged at his pecs. 

“Hey there, that was some performance. You got a gorgeous voice honey.” He leaned his forearm on the wall, his other hand on his hip blocking her exit. 

“Thanks.” Marianne blushed a little trying to maneuver around him. 

The man continued to talk. “My name's Joe. Can I buy you a drink?” 

Marianne frowned looking up into his eyes. He reminded her of someone, she couldn't think of who it was, but he was giving her a charming smile and maybe...he could be...what she was looking for? Her deal with the devil reared up in her mind. 

“Sure, a drink sounds nice.” She heard herself reply. 

Bog was looking over toward the stage expectantly, but he never saw Marianne emerge, but he did see the broad back of someone. He caught a glimpse of Marianne on the other side of the human wall, and for a split second Bog thought about going over there to see if she needed any help. But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he saw Marianne walk with the guy over to the bar and take a stool next to him. 

Whatever little crack that Marianne had opened in his heart suddenly felt a knife's blade had buried itself there.


	5. Has anyone ever written anything for you?

For a moment, Bog didn't move. He simply sat there with his hands on his knees the feelings inside him raging like a storm in his chest and gut. It had been centuries since he had 'felt' anything. He was reminded by the sharp stab in his chest that there had been a reason he had shut himself off from feeling anything for others. 

He watched Marianne, sitting down at the bar, laughing at whatever the man had said to her. The man reached out to put an hand on Marianne's arm, which she didn't yank from his grasp. Bog's first reaction was to burn the man, to start a fire in the middle of his chest and burn his heart to ash. But he thought about their deal...why was he getting upset...he wanted her to beat him, didn't he? He found himself becoming conflicted, confused...so instead of reacting the way he felt like doing, Bog simply stood up. 

“I have to go,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. 

Dawn had seen Marianne walk off with the other man, her blue eyes turning into a large saucers. What on earth was her sister doing? When Bog suddenly stood up and said he was leaving Dawn reached over and grabbed his arm. “Don't go Boggy, I'm sure it's nothing.” 

Sunny frowned. The guy seemed to be getting pretty friendly with Dawn's sister...man that has to hurt seeing your date dump you so fast and right in front of you! Sunny thought. “Yeah man, I'm sure it's not what it looks like.” 

Bog turned giving Dawn a sad smile. “It's better if I go. Tell her for me that I enjoyed the song. She should continue coming to these open mics...she should pursue her heart's desires.” 

He didn't yank his arm away from Dawn, he just simply slid from her grasp and within seconds he vanished into the crowd. 

Dawn started to get up and go after him, but Sunny reached out and took her hand. “Don't Dawn, I mean we don't know what's going on... maybe you should stay out of this. If your sister isn't interested in Bog you can't force it. I mean she just got out of the hospital after finding out about Roland.” 

Dawn's brow wrinkled in frustration. “But...I mean Bog is so different!! I...I just...What on earth is Marianne doing??!! She came with a great guy!! “ 

Dawn groaned. This was just not like her sister!! 

Dawn sat back down, but she looked on the verge of tears. “I really like Boggy though.” 

* 

Marianne sipped her drink listening to Joe talk about himself. She had thought he might be different, but after getting her to the bar and buying her a drink he had started into telling her how great he was and how other women just loved him, that she was lucky though because she was the best looking woman here... 

She listened, sort of, but she had forgotten about why she had gone with him as she started focusing on who this guy remind her of...she was halfway through her beer when she suddenly realized...he reminded her of...Roland. Good looking, but clearly self-centered, wanted to make sure you knew how lucky you were that he was here with you when he could be with other women...which was supposed to make you feel grateful...and fall into bed with him. But that was the old, not-as-confident Marianne and besides, she was after “true” love, not some romp in bed.. This was not going to be the guy to break her contract...she felt so stupid, she had almost made the same mistake again...almost right away! What was wrong with her? Marianne could have snarled at her own stupidity. 

That was when Joe grinned at her. “So, wanna skip this joint and go back to my place?” 

He had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows at her!! Marianne narrowed her eyes. “You think that's all it takes, a smile and good-looks, a handful of compliments and a beer and I will go jump into bed with you?” 

Joe frowned. “Well, yeah. We're both adults.” 

Now Marianne's rational mind knew what she was doing, she was replacing Joe with Roland and doing the one thing she wished she had done....slap Roland across the face. But, her irrational mind simply put Roland in Joe's place and before she could stop herself, Marianne had slapped Joe hard across the face. 

“You know what buddy, you ain't as good-looking as you think you are and you sure as hell ain't as smart and I have a LOT better taste than to spend more time with you.” 

With that Marianne stood up, grabbed her guitar and stomped back to her table leaving Joe looking confused. 

* 

When she arrived back at the table Dawn was frowning at her and Bog was gone. “Where did Bog go?” 

Marianne looked around then at her little sister who was glaring at her. “Why are you so angry?” 

“We all saw you go to the bar with that guy. Bog saw you. He left.” 

Dawn had her arms folded over her chest. “That was mean Marianne,” she said with anger and disappointment both, glaringly obvious since she was normally so cheery. “I mean, I expect something like that from your ex, but you?! How could you??!! And Boggy brought you flowers and—and, a guitar...and he brought you here and...damn it Marianne, I really liked Boggy!” 

Marianne looked like someone had hit her in the gut. “What do you mean he left?” 

“When he saw you walk to the bar with that guy,” she explained slowly. “He got up and left.” Dawn sighed. 

Marianne squeezed her eyes shut, she so much wanted to explain to Dawn about the contract...the deal, but instead she sighed. “You know, let's go. I need to talk to him.” 

* 

Sunny and Dawn dropped Marianne off at her apartment. Dawn had alternated between giving her sister the silent treatment and fussing at her over how mean she had been to Bog. When they stopped in front of Marianne's building Dawn sighed sorrowfully. “Boggy just seems like a really decent guy you know? And well...he looked so...hurt, when you went to the bar with that other guy. He looked like you had punched him in the gut. I mean, I know there was nothing going on between you and Boggy...you just met and all, but he seemed like the sort of guy you could really get into...more like you than Roland ever was....you know?” 

Marianne nodded. “Don't worry. I'll talk to Bog.” 

Dawn nodded. “Okay. Love you sis!” 

“Love you too, Sunflower.” 

* 

She took the elevator to her floor, moving quickly to her door, immediately putting her guitar inside and went next door to knock on Bog's door. She knocked, and knocked and knocked. 

“Bog come on, answer the door!!” 

But here was nothing. She decided, just on the off chance, to try the knob and found that the door was unlocked, which made sense; a demon could probably pop in on a burglar and...zap...no burglar...or whatever it was demons did to their enemies. 

Marianne pushed the door open gingerly and slipped inside. “Bog?” 

There was no answer. 

Marianne flipped on a switch, the lights snapping on. She looked around in surprise, there was nothing here...well, almost nothing. There was one armchair, old, well used, with a book opened face down on the arm of it. As she stepped closer she could see that the spine of the book was cracked...the pages slightly yellow and dog eared. Clearly a well loved book. The front of it was made of leather...old...very old. She looked at the cover and saw that it was a book of works by Lord Byron. She frowned...one of the romantics, not what she thought Bog would be reading. Marianne carefully picked up the book and examined the page that the book at been open to reading out loud. 

“She walks in beauty, like the night 

Of cloudless climes and starry skies; 

And all that’s best of dark and bright 

Meet in her aspect and her eyes; 

Thus mellowed to that tender light 

Which heaven to gaudy day denies. 

Marianne frowned slightly, her brow furrowed. She set the book back down as she had found it and turned to search further. She wasn't really sure what she was looking for...something more to tell her about her personal demon, a clue to where he had gone? She walked further into the apartment, investigating the kitchen where she found no dishes and no food in the fridge. There were no decorations on any of the plain white walls either. She made her way down a small hallway to the bedroom. The door was open a crack. She pushed it the rest of the way open, feeling around for the light switch. In the bedroom there was a simple double bed with a dark brown bedspread and bronze colored sheets, a small bedside table, a lamp, and another book. She walked over picking this one up, Wuthering Heights. Marianne frowned slightly, turning the book over, not sure what she was looking for before she set the book back on the table. She opened closets, but there was nothing, no clothing, no shoes, to dresser, no TV...nothing. It was rather sad, the only personal items she had found were the two books. Otherwise, there was nothing personal here at all. 

Marianne stood in the middle of the bedroom. “Bog? Bog! Where are you?” she called, her voice subdued. 

She received no answer. 

* 

Marianne went back to her apartment feeling hollow, odd. The worst part about it was that she wasn't really sure why. She walked over to her guitar case, opening it up and taking out the guitar. She held it for a moment before setting the guitar he had given her on her couch, stroking the neck before she let out a long sigh then she squared her shoulders talking to herself. “You know what Marianne...he's a demon...he's fine and it's not like he was a friend or anything.” 

She nodded to herself with a stern look on her face, marching off to her tiny bathroom. She took a shower, got ready for bed, and made herself a sandwich. 

After her “dinner” thinking that perhaps Bog would show up once she was in bed like he had been doing the last few nights, Marianne got herself settled for the night. Sitting next to her in his fancy suit, with his blasted cigarette and snarky attitude. She could explain how the guy at the bar was just a douche...how she had almost fallen into her old pattern, being swayed by a pretty face and a lack of personality. But as the hours passed Bog still never showed up. 

She made herself a cup of tea , slipped into bed and waited. 

But Bog never appeared that night. 

* 

The next day Marianne was sitting on her couch practicing her guitar and singing softly. Her fingers ran over the strings about to sing the lyrics to the song she was picking out when her cellphone rang. She picked it up and saw it was her sister. “Hey Dawn.” 

“Did you talk to Boggy?” Dawn asked immediately. 

“No, I haven't seen him yet,” Marianne said softly. 

“You need to get a hold of him Marianne. You should have seen his face last night.” Dawn sounded sad. 

“I will. I promise.” Marianne sighed leaning back. “Why are you so worried about him?” 

Her could hear something in Dawn's voice.. “I don't know Mari, I just really like him. There is something about him and he is so sweet! I just...I don't know, I think you might have a real chance with a guy like him.” 

“You know we are just friends right?” Marianne grimaced, she really wanted to tell Dawn that Bog was a demon who might end up taking her soul to hell ...but of course she couldn't. 

“Hey, Sunny and I were just friends too. Look at us now.” Marianne could visualize Dawn putting her bottom lip out with that look she got when she believed she was right. 

“I promise as soon as I see him...” Marianne closed her eyes as she spoke. 

She could almost see Dawn's expression in her mind when her sister spoke. “You better. I still can't believe you did that last night.” 

“Dawn, really it was all just a misunderstanding, I promise!” Marianne groaned dropping her head back against her couch. 

“Fine, just make it right sis. If nothing else, Boggy deserves to know if you're interested or not... Hey you want me to come by later?” Dawn asked her voice was cheerier, but Marianne could tell she was still upset with her. 

“Nah, I'll be fine. I'll order a pizza or something.” Marianne set her guitar down walking over to the fridge and opened it, looking inside...she wasn't sure for what, but whatever the elusive thing was that she was searching for...it wasn't in the fridge. 

“Okay, well if you need anything give me a call. Oh and let me know when you talk to Boggy okay?” 

“Alright Dawn, I promise.” 

Marianne hung up setting her phone down on the counter wondering when Bog would finally show up. If he didn't show up soon Dawn was never going to forgive her. 

* 

Two weeks went by, but Marianne never saw Bog. She went to his apartment, which was still unlocked, still looking empty and clean, but there was no sign of him. The fact that no one had moved in gave her hope that maybe he intended to come back. 

She went back to her apartment, picking up her guitar to practice. She was planning on going to the open mic at the bar again. Without Bog she hadn't gone back, but after a couple of weeks she thought singing...doing the thing he has been so adamant about her doing might cause him to return. 

She had chosen a Stevie Nicks song, her fingers strumming over the strings gently. She kept expecting him to knock or simply appear. But he never did. 

She sang quietly. “Has anyone ever written anything for you, In all your darkest hours, Have you ever heard me sing, Listen to me now, You know I would rather be alone, Than be without you, Don't you know...” 

She wasn't sure why she chose this song, but for some reason it felt right. 

And then Marianne had an idea. She had seen it in movies, TV, read it in books...you could summon a demon. Maybe that was what she needed to do...summon Bog!! Then he couldn't avoid her if that was what he was doing! 

“So how to do it?” Marianne murmured to herself, tapping her chin in thought. 

She shrugged. “Start where everyone starts...the internet.” 

Marianne put her guitar aside immediately going into her bedroom to grab her laptop. 

“Okay, how do you summon a demon?” Marianne asked herself as she brought up a Google search. 

* 

Marianne decided not to tell her sister that she was going back to the same bar for the open mic...she really didn't want Dawn to see her...doing what she was going to be doing...so she had lied (what number was this, she thought to herself) and told her sister that she was going to watch a movie and go to bed early. 

But instead she had taken a cab to Mulligan's. 

She walked into the crowded bar, her guitar case in one hand and a dufflebag of supplies in the other. She wasn't going to be able to do a full-on summoning circle...she was basically planning on doing a Wal-mart version of summoning a demon...and hoping she was going to get the right one. 

She had read so much stuff last night that her eyes were a little blood shot, but she was determined to get Bog to come back and talk to her. 

So, she had four black candles, some salt, some incense...and herself. Now that she was here at the bar, full of people...she was starting to question why she hadn't just stayed home and done this. Okay, she told herself, she knew why...nearly everything she had read kept coming back to energy and something that will attract the demon. Since Marianne wanted Bog, she was thinking her playing at the open mic would kill two birds with one stone, energy...and her music to attract him...and only him. 

But now that seemed like a really stupid idea, but she was here, she had brought the stuff and she was going to try. 

While she sat at the bar waiting her call to the stage, she ordered herself a green demon cocktail. Sipping her drink Marianne kept turning around to gaze nervously at the crowd, on the off chance that Bog appeared, trying to startle her or scare her 

But finally it was her turn to go on stage. 

* 

Marianne smiled leaning into the mic. “Just, give me a minute, going to set the mood.” She took the sea salt out and made a circle that would encompass her, the mic and the stool. She then set the four black candles out in the bronze holders she had for them glancing out once at the audience. The audience was quiet just watching her as she pulled out a lighter and lit each candle. She then pulled out the incense burner and the sticks of incense using the lighter to light the stick before she took her seat. 

She gave an embarrassed smile. 

“Okay, now...ah...my name is Marianne and the song I'm singing is by Stevie Nicks.” That got her a round of applause. 

Marianne took a breath and started playing. Her voice rang out, clear and beautiful, the depth of feeling she put into singing the words was enough to break hearts. Her fingers danced over the strings, gliding and stroking the clear sounds of the musical piece. 

“Has anyone ever given anything to you In your darkest hours, Did you ever give it back Well, I have given that to you If it's all I ever do This is your song...” 

Her voice carried the words through the audience, the smell of the incense, the flicker of the candlelight adding drama and power to her words. The crowd could feel it, the air shimmering with...something powerful. She had them in the palm of her hand, singing her words trapped in a circle. 

But when she finished, she received a standing ovation...and no demon. 

Marianne looked around, struggling to see, looking for a tall, lean, elegant figure, but if Bog was there...she couldn't find him. With a frustrated sigh Marianne waved at the audience and cleaned up her mess. She stayed long enough to let a few appreciative patrons buy her drinks, but after about an hour Marianne packed up her guitar and left in frustration. 

* 

When she arrived home she was tired and disappointed. She hated to admit it, but she missed talking to Bog. It was kinda of nice him popping in at the end of the day, being a little bit of a jerk and just talking. She chuckled and went to take a shower. 

After her shower she was towel drying her hair and looking at herself in the mirror. The bruises from the accident were gone, as was any residual pain. She would be heading back to work soon...her nice boring job. She smiled thinking that her personal demon would be pushing her to pursue her music instead of real estate. Marianne wrinkled her nose at herself in the mirror. 

She put on a pair of pajama pants, dark plum with little smiling stars all over them and a matching t-shirt. She then went into the kitchen and made herself a mug of milk and headed into her bedroom. 

She got into bed, placing her milk on the side table and picked up her book when a voice said softly. 

“Did you really think that would work?” 

Marianne let out a shriek, her fist shot out and hitting Bog in the jaw knocking him off her bed where he had been sitting. He disappeared off the side of the bed hitting the floor with a loud crash and some very vivid cursing.


	6. Evil Ways

“FUCKING HELL MARIANNE!!” Bog snarled, his eyes glowing for a moment. His fangs looked more pronounced in the shadows of her room as he worked his jaw, his long fingers prodding it delicately. 

“Oh God!! BOG!!” Marianne was up and leaning over the side of her bed to see Bog sitting on the floor rubbing his jaw. Her first thought was that he looked amazing despite...no, because of the fact that he was dressed impeccably as always. He wore a tartan suit of navy and deep red matched with a plain black vest, black shirt and black tie. The shoes he wore were black ankle boots with brogue patterning. The legs of his pants had ridden up just pass the ankle boots where she could see a glimpse of his legs, the dark hair. Why is that so sexy, Marianne wondered for a moment. And why was she using the word sexy for a fucking demon? 

Bog glared at her which had Marianne pressing her lips together looking at him, dressed in his fancy suit, sitting on his ass on the floor. It was taking a great effort on her part not to laugh. 

“That was a mean right hook. And I would appreciate it if you wouldn't say “Oh God”...” he muttered as he moved his jaw around and winced. 

Relief flooded Marianne's features; he was here and he was all right. But then she got angry again. “What the hell do you expect after disappearing like that?!” 

Bog smirked. “I thought you would love being rid of me...especially with muscles-for-brains as company.” 

“What?” Marianne sat on the edge of her bed, her legs dangling off, the socks on her feet having sloughed down around her ankles. Bog tried to suppress his smile. She looked adorable. Bog stood up and brushed himself off keeping his expression in the shadows. Marianne watched him brushing off imagined dust, then he looked at her with those intense blue eyes of his...she felt a flood of warmth which she promptly ignored. 

“The man at the bar...” Bog's voice trailed off as Marianne watched him, a small smirk on her fey-like features. 

“What?” Bog asked with a frown. 

“Were you jealous? Was that why you left?” Marianne smirked a little more. Bog rolled his eyes making a scooting motion with his hands. Marianne shifted over to her side of the bed while Bog sat down in his usual place, crossing his feet at the ankles on her comforter and materialized a cigarette as he muttered. “Demon's don't get jealous.” 

Marianne smiled. “If you say so. No, Joe was his name and nothing happened. He...was a jerk.” Marianne leaned back after propping her pillows up and folding her arms over her chest. 

Bog was silent for a moment puffing quietly on his cigarette, his expression contemplative. He blew out a large smoke ring before he spoke. He was deciding whether to comment on Joe's similarities to Roland, but decided against it. She seemed to have reached that conclusion on her own. He decided to focus on another topic instead. 

“So, you are still doing the open mic?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yep.” 

Bog smiled. “Good.” 

They were both quiet for a bit, then Bog chuckled. “And trying to summon demons.” 

“Shut up,” Marianne muttered in a warning tone, but she couldn't keep the smile off her lips when she said it. 

Bog chuckled as he blew another smoke ring. 

Marianne played with the edge of her blanket, studying the details of the cover's pattern before she whispered, “I missed our talks.” 

Bog turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes soft, and his expression tender. “I missed you too, tough girl.” 

“Promise me you won't disappear like that again...even if I find “Mr. Right” okay?” Marianne gave him a inquiring look. 

Bog cleared his throat looking slightly uncomfortable. “If you insist. I...I promise.” 

Marianne nodded. “Good. Where did you go?” she asked softly. 

Bog inhaled deeply on his cigarette. She could tell he wanted to change the subject. He crossed his left arm over his chest, resting his elbow against his forearm taking his cigarette from between his lips before he asked. 

“So, what song will you be performing this next weekend?” 

Marianne glanced over at him and smiled. If he didn't' want to talk about where he had gone and why, then she wasn't going to bring it up again either. Marianne reached over picking up her mug of milk, taking a sip before she spoke. 

“Well...I have this song by Justin Cross called Come Drink the Water? I was thinking about doing that one. It has a great guitar part...” Marianne shrugged as she took another sip of her milk. 

Bog smiled as he reached over, surprising her when the cigarette disappeared just before he touched her upper lip with his long index finger. His touch was warm and feather light as he wiped her upper lip. He smiled. “Milk mustache.” 

Marianne blushed. Bog pulled his hand away slowly, the cigarette returning as if it had never disappeared. He nodded. “I like that song...it will be beautiful in your voice. I've never heard a woman sing it before—should be interesting.” 

Marianne smiled. “Does that mean you're going to stick around?” 

Bog didn't look at her as he replied. “I...I suppose so. Don't want you doing one of your “summonings” again. Who knows what you'll end up with.” He chuckled which caused Marianne to elbow him in the side. Bog chuckled even more, bumping her shoulder with his. They both laughed. Bog turned, his expression was strange, she thought. Marianne couldn't really place what he seemed to be thinking, but his voice, the accent was slightly thicker when he spoke. “I'll see you tomorrow Marianne. Sleep well.” 

“Thank you Bog.” Marianne smiled. Bog reached out placing the tips of two fingers against her cheek, then in the next blink of her eyes, he was gone. 

She smiled snuggling into the blankets of her bed and slept...her dreams were filled with music and blue eyes. 

* 

The next morning Marianne was supposed to start back at work. She wasn't really looking forward to it. Bog getting her out there singing and playing again had made her realize how much she missed music, missed those dreams she had had of making a life playing music. 

She looked at herself in the mirror, touching up her make-up and straightening the blouse she wore under the short blazer colored a dull tan, matched with a pair of bell-bottomed slacks, a black blouse and black flats. Her hair was brushed to make it look more subdued. She looked...conservative...mature...responsible, like someone who sold expensive real estate to people looking to settle down in expensive homes. Marianne made a face at herself sticking her tongue out and wrinkling her nose at her reflection. With a sigh, she stepped out of the bathroom, grabbed her purse and apartment keys before heading to her door, hoping she could catch a cab quickly, when there was a knock. 

Marianne frowned, staring at her door in confusion for a moment, but then the knock occurred again. She opened the door to find Bog standing there holding a pastry box in one hand and a pair of coffees in a drink carrier. He looked human, wearing a pair of slim-fit brown pants with a thick belt and a plain black henley, the sleeves of which where shoved up to his elbows. 

“Hey.” He smiled at her. 

“Hey...what are you doing here? I have to go to work,” Marianne said, walking out of the doorway and turning to lock it. Bog held up the box and coffees up to avoid knocking her with them. “I thought we could spend your time more constructively than you selling bits of property.” 

Bog followed her down the stairs as she hurried. “What are you talking about ?” she asked taking the stairs two at a time as she descended. 

“We are going to a music festival.” Bog smiled again. 

Marianne stopped on the landing she had just reached turning to look at him in confusion. “What?” 

Bog grinned that devilish smirk on his lips. “We are going to the Wonderland music festival.” 

“No, we are not,” Marianne corrected. “I have to go to work.” Marianne started to continue her descent again, but Bog grinned chuckling. “I've made all the arrangements. Your doctor called, telling your father that you needed more time. You know that you shouldn't go back to work yet, that you need at least another week of rest, maybe spend some time doing things that are simple, relaxing...there is such a thing as mental trauma.” 

Marianne looked shocked. “You what? How did you contact my doctor..? You know what? Never mind.” She waved a hand at Bog. 

Bog leaned against the wall continuing with a wicked smile on his lips. “Also, I have a Mercedes-Benz GL350 BlueTEC parked outside with your bags and guitar waiting for you in the car. The only thing that you need to take care of would be changing your outfit for the road trip.” Bog's grin was devilish...of course. 

“Wait a damn minute...what is this music festival you want to drag me off to? Where did you get a car?How did you pack my bags? And I can't go! I have to go to work!” Marianne started to cross her arms over her chest glaring at her demon, her lips set to be stubborn when Bog pushed the drink holder at her. 

“One Latte Macchiato made just the way you like it.” He grinned at her before leaning down, his eyes level with hers for a moment. “It will make you feel less cranky.” 

As Marianne took the offered coffee, the warm rich smell wafted over her which prompted her to inhale deeply before taking a careful sip of the hot beverage. She tried to school her reaction, but it did taste really good. “I'm not cranky,” she mumbled crankily. 

Bog snorted. “I'm a demon Marianne, I deal with cranky a lot. You're cranky.” 

He grinned watching her take another sip. He could see the caffeine working it's way through her, relaxing her shoulders. 

“The car is a rental...sort of...the owner of the car rental where I got the car traded his soul to me ages ago...for a weekend in Monte Carlo...sort of a Jame Bond Fantasy Island sort of thing...” Bog pursed his lips noticing the look Marianne was giving him. He grinned looking a little embarrassed. “Anyway...” 

Bog subtly turned Marianne around using the hand holding the pastry box, guiding her back up the stairs as he continued to talk. “You don't have to worry about that...it's...been paid for in advance. As for the music festival, it is taking place in Washington, so we have a few hours on the road to get there, so we really should get started now.” 

Marianne stopped, turning to glare. “Bog, I can't...work. You know...like human work. I have to go.” 

“Yes you can. All is taken care of remember. So, go change and come on. We have lots of road to cover.” Bog gave her a gentle push toward the stairs again. 

Marianne refused to budge. “What about my sister?” 

Bog groaned in frustration. “What about Dawn?” 

“Does she know where I'll be?” Marianne took another sip from her coffee eyeing him over the top of the cup. 

Bog smiled. “Yes she does, Miss Stubborn. I called her myself.” 

“Wait...what? When did you get her number?” Marianne looked confused. 

Bog groaned dropping his shoulders and rolling his head in frustration. “It doesn't matter! I called her, told her we made up and I was taking you to a music festival...and before you ask...I told her 'as friends.'” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at him, but then Bog was using the box to push her back toward the stairs. Marianne started the ascent back to her apartment. “Okay wiseguy, why are we going to this festival anyway?” 

Bog grinned. “Because you're going to perform.” 

“WHAT???!!!' Marianne turned quickly enough that she nearly spilled her coffee over Bog's front. “PERFORM!! Are you crazy!!!” 

One of the apartment doors on this landing opened and an older gentleman stuck his head out. He looked between the two of them, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Everything okay out here?” 

Bog smiled. “Yes, just fine.” 

Marianne looked annoyed at Bog, but she sighed. “Yeah, everything is peachy. Sorry about that.” 

The older man frowned looking between them as if he wasn't really sure, but then went back inside closing the door. 

Marianne hissed at Bog. “What do you mean perform?? I can't perform!!” 

Bog gave her a toothy grin. “You can and you will. There are three stages at this event and on one of them they are having amateur musicians perform. You are all signed up.” 

“Wait...how on earth did you..?” Marianne started then groaned. “Never mind.” 

Bog's smile was downright annoying—and cute, Marianne thought wryly. 

“Fine...fine...” Marianne thought she might be sick right there...how on earth was she...She couldn't even formulate the thought completely without feeling physical and mental distress. 

She started back up the stairs then stopped. She turned back around with a sly grin on her face. “Okay, you win, I'll do it, but on one condition.” 

Bog cocked his head. He just instinctively knew he wasn't going to like this. “One condition. Very well...what?” 

“You have to perform too.” Marianne grinned. 

Bog blinked thinking to himself that that was not what he was expecting. Then he muttered, “No.” 

Marianne grinned. “Oh, no you don't!! You can't expect me to just go out there on a huge stage by myself and perform for a HUGE crowd of musical festival goers. If I'm doing it, you're doing it and no tricks.” Marianne crossed an arm over her chest and sipped her coffee. 

Bog stared at her then groaned. “Fine.” 

Marianne smiled in triumph turning to walk up the rest of the stairs. “Oh, and I get to pick the music in the car.” 

Bog stopped half way up behind her. “Oh now come on!!” 

* 

Marianne grabbed some clothes out of her closet, muttering to herself about being crazy and listening to demons as she jumped around and wiggled yanking up her jeans quickly. She yanked on her t-shirt, dropping down in the next instant to look under her bed for her Converse, which should have been in the closet, but of course they weren't. 

“Hey Bog, are my Converse in there by the door?” 

She frowned popping back up when there was no answer. Her heart started to hammer hard in her chest...had he disappeared again? 

She stood up and jogged into the living room only to stop short as Bog suddenly appeared. 

“Oh damn!” She grabbed her chest. “Bog! Where did you go?” 

Bog blinked in surprise at her reaction. “Oh, Sorry Marianne...ah...had an...acquisition to transfer downstairs.” 

Marianne frowned. For a moment she wanted to ask...then she didn't...they stared at each other for a moment, Marianne chewing her bottom lip. Bog looked...ashamed? She couldn't be sure, but instead of asking or accusing, Marianne took a breath, let it out then smiled. “Are my Converse by the door?” 

Bog turned around to look behind him and nodded. “Yes, they're here.” 

“Thanks.” She walked over. 

Bog touched her shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Marianne smiled. “Yeah...I'm fine, promise.” 

* 

“I can't believe I'm doing this.” Marianne was sitting in the passenger seat staring out the windshield. She had changed into a pair of jeans, purple Converse and a t-shirt with Freddie Mercury on it holding up a British flag. She had her feet up on the dash in front of her while Bog drove grinning ear to ear. 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip glancing sideways at Bog. She dropped her feet to the floor turning to face Bog. “I never asked, can you sing? Or play an instrument?” 

Bog chuckled. “Oh, now you ask.” 

Marianne blushed. “Sorry.” 

Bog chuckled. “I do. When I was...alive...I played the violin.” 

Marianne gaped. “Really? Wow...” 

“And I sang.” Bog wasn't looking at her as he drove. She could tell by the distant look in his eyes that he must be remembering something...unpleasant memories would be her guess, by the grim change in his expression. He hadn't conjured a cigarette for a while, but when she started questioning him about playing an instrument, Bog suddenly had a long cigarette in his mouth, the end of which was glowing an angry red. She could smell the smoke, but it wasn't bothering her...much like in her room...she could enjoy the smell of the tobacco without the effects of the smoke. Some demon trick she was sure, but the fact that he was being thoughtful enough not to subject her to the smoke without her even asking...it was sweet. 

She frowned at his expression, but continued. “That's...cool, I mean really cool. So...what are you going to play you think?” 

Bog snorted at her. “The Devil Comes Back to Georgia.” 

“Seriously?” Marianne frowned and Bog glanced sideways at her then broke out into a slight laugh. “No of course not. “ 

Marianne stuck her tongue out at him turning away to look out the front windshield. 

Bog glanced sideways at her. “Aerosmith.” 

Marianne turned to look at him again. “Aerosmith?” 

Bog nodded. “Dream On.” 

Marianne tilted her head grinning. “On the violin? That...that is going to be epic!” 

Bog blushed. “Well, I don't know about that...” 

Marianne sat back in her seat again crossing her arms over her chest. “I can't wait to hear you play.” She propped her feet back up on the dash. Bog glanced at her legs; even in the jeans he could appreciate how shapely her legs were...then he frowned, his eyes immediately returning to the road. 

“So, can I hear you play something tonight?” Marianne asked, examining one of her fingernails. 

Bog made a face taking his cigarette out and flicking the ashes out the window he had lowered partway down. “I guess.” 

Marianne grinned brightly. “Cool.” 

* 

That night Bog pulled into a small motel off the highway, procuring a room with two double beds. Bog carried her bags in for her giving her a stern look when she started to protest. She frowned at him, but let him take the bags inside. 

Marianne noticed that he carried a small case of his own. She frowned about to ask him why he had a bag, since he seemed to be able to conjure cigarettes out of thin air and could change his clothes at will, but she decided against it...maybe he was playing at being human, all the way down to the suitcase of clothing. He dropped off their bags in the room then went back to the vehicle returning with her guitar case and a violin case. 

The room itself was the basic motel room. It was clean, with dull colored comforters on the beds, bible in the nightstand, weird paintings on the wall except the room smelled pleasantly of vanilla instead of the sterile smell of cleaning agents. Marianne threw herself face down on one of the beds. 

“Ugh, this is nice.” 

Bog chuckled. “You relax, I'll go pick us up some dinner. I saw a burger place down the street.” 

Marianne rolled her head over so she could look at him smiling. “That sounds great. Thanks Bog.” 

He smiled standing up and stretching his arms over his head. Marianne studied him, watching the way he arched his back, the slim hips, the long legs. She wondered what he had been like before...when he was human. She had so many questions...maybe later. Bog sighed shaking out his arms. 

“Be right back. You go ahead and shower.” 

Marianne pushed herself up. “Are you inferring that I stink.” 

Bog grinned. “A lady never stinks.” 

She laughed sticking out her tongue. 

Bog chuckled. “Back in a bit.” 

* 

Marianne took a nice warm shower, letting the water run down over her face and body, relaxing her muscles. She smirked to herself. She still couldn't believe she was doing this. Part of her wasn't sure if the whole trip was actually happening or that she was going to end up on a stage singing and playing. There was part of her that assumed something would happen, that she and Bog wouldn't make it for some reason. She decided not to think about it, but instead enjoy the trip...and her time with Bog. 

She stepped out of the shower, grabbed a thin motel towel and began toweling herself dry. Once that was done she slipped on her pajamas that she had piled on the back of the toilet. They were a pair of gingham, cotton blue and white shorts with a matching button-down shirt. She was buttoning the shirt, the towel lying on top of her damp head when she heard singing. Marianne stopped in mid-button and listened, cocking her head to the side. It was Bog! 

She could tell he was tapping his foot for the beat as the steady thump vibrated under the other sounds. She could heard the musical notes of the violin he was playing. There was a bit of a slow twang in the way he was playing it accompanied by his voice, the accent, gave his singing voice a rich growl as he sang. 

“Well I been gone, 

gone for days. 

She done said, 

God's changed your ways.. 

God changed your ways.. 

your evil ways. ...” 

Marianne tiptoed carefully, opened the bathroom door, and leaned out to hear more clearly, doing her best to remain silent and peak around the corner. She could just make out Bog's long legs. He was sitting on the edge of the bed nearest the door to the motel room, playing with his eyes closed. 

“But I found out, 

her love grows cold. 

Her bed lights on, 

my best friend home. 

They ain't changed, 

changed their ways. 

They ain't changed. 

So I won't hide, oohhhh 

I won't hide, oohhhh 

I won't hide, oohhhh 

I won't hide, oohhhh 

Hey! 

My evil ways.” 

Marianne stepped quietly out of the bathroom and then stumbled over her suitcase, which caused Bog to bring the song to an abrupt end. “Damn it!” she muttered looking at Bog with an annoyed expression at herself. “Sorry.” 

Bog chuckled setting the violin down on the bed behind him. “Don't be, I bought the burgers, yours with everything correct? A cola and onion rings.” 

Marianne grinned. “Damn you're good.” 

Bog shrugged then winked. “Not good at all.” 

Marianne pressed her lips together trying not to giggle, but her eyes danced. 

Bog smiled standing up and grabbing the bag of hot greasy food. “Let's eat.”


	7. Wild Mountain Thyme

Marianne was in bed under the covers reading her book. (Actually she was spending more time staring at the pages than actually reading and she was having a difficult time getting comfortable.) She thought it was the bed, the motel room...something else until it occurred to her that she knew exactly what it was. Marianne frowned, glancing over at Bog. 

He was dressed for bed in a pair of navy and grey plaid short pants and a navy t-shirt that fit...very well she noticed. His feet were bare, which was odd for her because she found that attractive...all of it was odd. He had long, slim feet, the nails of which, like the nails on his hands, were well groomed. Usually he was so well dressed that seeing him like this was, Marianne realized with a wry thought, a turn on. Marianne made a mental face at herself focusing back on her book, but she wasn't really reading it. 

She glanced back over to him again. Bog back against the headboard of his bed reading “Wuthering Heights” with a cigarette balanced between two long fingers. Marianne stared at him willing him to look over at her, until finally she patted the side of her bed glancing over at Bog. 

“Come here please, I don't want to feel like I'm shouting at you from across the room.” 

Bog chuckled raising an eyebrow at her. “Oh and what do you want?” 

Marianne pouted. “Just come over here please.” 

He set the book down on the small faux wood nightstand, then walked over to sit next to Marianne on her bed. “Better, tough girl?” 

Marianne smirked at him. “Yeah.” 

She took a deep breath. “So, we have another couple of days on the road before we get there?” 

Bog took a drag on his cigarette. “Yep.” 

She nodded playing with the page of her book. “What...what if we get there and I can't do it. What if I freeze up?” 

Bog vanished the cigarette, reaching over to take her book from her, set it on the table, then held her hands in his. “You will be fine, tough girl.” 

“You're not going to do any...” Marianne waggled her eyebrows at him. Bog started to laugh. “I'm not a genie and no...I won't do anything to force you. I figure if you don't do the show then you can at least watch, listen, absorb...realize that you are better than anyone there.” 

Marianne blushed. “I'm not that good Bog.” 

Bog squeezed her hands. “I've taken the souls of a LOT of artists, musicians, a lot of them selling their soul for that one chance to make it big. I've heard a lot of music and a lot of singers over the years. So when I tell you Marianne that you have the talent to be a star, I'm not saying it just to be nice. It's the truth.” 

Marianne blushed glancing down at where Bog held her hands. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles in a tender, calming caress. 

“Besides, you might meet that guy who will break your deal with me,” Bog speculated, but there was something in his voice that seemed vaguely sad. 

Marianne frowned looking up. When she looked up she found that Bog was staring at her. His eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue. She had noticed his eyes before, but right now they seemed even more vivid blue than usual. The urge to lean toward him...to...but then Bog blushed and looked away as he dropped her hands. 

He said softly, “So, don't worry about it. You needed this trip anyway. Needed to break away from your routine, you life back home...see something new.” 

He conjured another cigarette, this one already lit, and took a long pull. Marianne sighed snuggling down in the bed. “Never realized how much I missed playing.” She smiled. 

Bog grinned. “One thing I've learned over the years: never give up what you love. That is the one thing that everyone seems to be after when I show up...the thing they love.” 

Marianne leaned against Bog's shoulder. He glanced sideways at her a soft smile on his lips. 

“Thank you,” she said softly. 

“Thank you for what?” Bog inquired with genuine confusion. 

“Just...well...for encouraging me to play again...and for this little trip. I mean, the fact that you are trying to help me win my soul back...isn't that against the rules or something?” Marianne glanced up at him. 

Bog looked down at her, her head resting against his shoulder, his heart skipped a beat. Her amber eyes were lovely, the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long, long time. 

“Don't worry about it Marianne. You're my responsibility and if I want to help you, I can.” Bog smiled down at her, but when he did he saw that she had drifted off to sleep. He flicked the cigarette away and very carefully started to move, but then stopped. He gently eased his arm out from under her shifting her head onto his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and slid back so that he was lying down with her head on his chest. Marianne stirred a little, but Bog stroked his long fingers through her short hair, caressing her ear, then her brow. She shifted in her sleep, her arm going around his waist. 

Bog hummed softly for a little while, caressing her hair, then down her neck and over her shoulder. After a bit he started to sing softly under his breath. 

“...And If my true love's gone 

I will surely find another 

And to her I will sing 

Things that make her know I want her 

Would you go, lassie, go? 

And we'll all go together 

Where the wild mountain thyme 

Grows around blooming heather 

Would you go, lassie, go?” 

* 

Marianne made a little snore in her sleep which made Bog stop singing and chuckle softly. He eased her off his chest slowly, then gracefully climbed to his feet. He stood at the side of her bed staring down at her for a long while. She looked so sweet and innocent asleep on her side. He leaned over and kissed her temple. 

Bog turned and stepped outside, conjuring another cigarette once he closed the motel door. The night was clear, revealing a blanket of stars that were bright and clearly visible away from the lights of the city. Bog looked up watching the stars shining down when he heard a voice with a heavy accent beside him. 

“Bog, Bog, Bog...what are ye doing?” 

Bog turned to see a demon standing beside him. This man was tall, heavily built with grey eyes. He wore a heavy black wool coat, brown tartan vest, brown shirt and darker brown pants. His bald head was covered with a bowler of dark grey. The other demon's accent was heavily Irish as he pulled out a fat cigar from between his teeth. 

“Brutus, what are you doing here?” Bog turned away from the other demon ignoring him. 

Brutus chuckled. “Just came to check on you.” 

Bog turned back looking at the demon from over his shoulder. “Why in the hell are you coming to check on me?” 

“Because Bog, it hasn't gone unnoticed that yer spending a great deal of time with this one.” Brutus puffed on his cigar walking over to lean against the motel wall. 

Bog snorted. “Since when does anyone care what I do?” 

Brutus shrugged. “Fine...no one cares except me.” 

Bog blew out a line of smoke. “And why do you care?” 

“Just don't want to see you get yourself hurt Bog...again. After what happened to you before...” Brutus pushed off the wall and walked over to stand next to Bog. Both demons gazed up at the sky. Bog sighed. “That was centuries ago. Before you became a demon Brutus. Can't believe anyone is still talking about it.” 

Brutus shrugged. “Time doesn't mean that much to us, you know that. Besides, your story is one of the ones all of us know...” 

The two demons were quiet for a while before Brutus spoke again. 

“So what's so different about this one Bog? Why all the time spent with her?” Brutus glanced sideways at Bog, gauging his reaction. 

Bog shrugged. “Honestly, I don't know. She's fiery, smart, funny...beautiful. I want to see her win and if not, I want her to live her dreams, to have everything she can...” Bog frowned as if talking about it made him actually think about his feelings, his actions. 

Brutus sighed. “I understand Bog, I do. Just be careful. Oh, and I also came to warn you. Jezebel is sniffing about again, been asking questions about you too.” 

Bog groaned. “What does that witch want?” 

“Oh the usual, to make your life miserable.” Brutus shrugged blowing out smoke through his nose, resembling a great volcano. 

“Why can't she move on? I know she has better things to do, like tear mortal men's souls from their bodies,” Bog muttered taking a long pull on his cigarette. 

Brutus laughed. “You rejected her, she ain't used to it. Should have just slept with her, then she would have left you alone.” 

Bog growled. “I don't work that way. Sex isn't a game for me—wasn't when I was alive and it isn't now.” 

Bog flicked his cigarette out into the darkness. 

Brutus shrugged. “Well I wanted to warn you. She ain't found you yet and she don't know about your little bird back there, but be careful Bog, that demon cunt is looking for you.” 

“Thanks Brutus, I'll keep an eye out.” Bog turned to say good-bye, but Brutus grabbed the much taller and thinner man into a bone-crushing hug, then just like that, he vanished. 

Bog sighed, stepped back into the motel room and turned off the light. 

* 

The next morning Marianne woke up smiling. She had slept like a log last night. Her dreams had been a bit odd, about Bog, dressed in a kilt singing her old songs from Scotland. She sat up rubbing her eyes and yawning when the door opened and Bog stepped in wearing a pair of khakis, a blue and grey plaid button-down shirt and carrying a plate piled with cinnamon rolls, bagels, cream cheese, and doughnuts. In his other hand he had a drink carrier that held two coffees. He smiled when he saw her, holding up his plate of goodies. “Free Continental breakfast.” 

Marianne laughed. Bog grinned walking over and set the plate down on the table between their beds before handing her a coffee. “And breakfast in bed!” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh gosh I don't know if you should keep doing this! I might get used to this kind of treatment.” 

Bog chuckled flopping down onto his bed and grabbing a cinnamon roll. “Well I could bring you breakfast every morning. I am a demon...would not be a problem.” 

Marianne looked over at him blushing. “You would do that?” 

Bog smiled. “If you wanted.” 

He took a bite of the roll. Marianne watched him; why was that sexy? She wondered to herself. 

“Nah, that's okay Bog.” Marianne blushed picking up her own cinnamon roll. Though for a moment she thought about it...him bringing her breakfast in bed, except he would get in bed with her to eat it. Marianne gave herself a mental shakedown... 

They finished eating, laughing about the staleness of the food, but they continued eating and sooner they were back on the road. 

* 

They had just placed their bags back in the vehicle when Marianne yelled. “I drive!” 

Bog turned around. “What? Oh no.” 

“Why not?” Marianne put her fists on her hips. For a moment Bog was struck speechless just gazing at her. She was wearing a pair of denim capri pants and a cute little white trapeze top and her tennis shoes. His old demonic heart did a little flip flop when he gazed into those caramel eyes. He had to almost physically shake himself out of his daze to answer her. 

“Remember the last time you drove?” Bog asked her lifting a brow in question. 

Marianne shrugged. “I was upset. I'm fine now.” 

Bog shook his head and said firmly, “No.” 

“Oh come on!!” Marianne put her bottom lip out at him fluttering her eyelashes. 

Bog stared hard at her before he stated to chuckle. “Okay fine, but we'll flip a coin.” 

Marianne giggled then stopped and pointed a finger at him. “No cheating you.” 

Bog gasped putting a hand to his chest. “Me? Cheat? I am offended woman!” 

They both laughed. “We'll use your coin okay?” Bog smiled and Marianne nodded. She pulled her purse off her shoulder, digging around until she found a quarter. “Okay, ready mister demon?” 

Bog grinned. “Go ahead, tough girl.” 

Marianne held the coin against her thumb and finger, flipping the coin up. It spun and she grabbed it slamming it down on the back of her hand. “HEADS!” 

Bog laughed as she held her hand out, her right hand over the coin. “Ready Bog?” 

“Ready tough girl.” Bog smiled. Marianne stared at his smile for a moment then distracted herself by lifting her hand. 

“HA!!! HEADS!!” Marianne did a little fist pump. “I get to drive and pick the music! Woot!” 

Bog groaned. “What a minute! The music too?” 

Marianne shot him with a steely glare. “When I agreed to this trip I said I get to pick the music. Yesterday I let you pick, but today I'm driving so I get to pick.” She grinned at him which caused Bog to start laughing. “Fine! Fine!” he pulled the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to her. Marianne caught them out of the air with an adorable and distracting little wiggle of her hips. Bog sighed telling himself to stop noticing her. Stop...just stop. 

* 

Soon they were on the road again. Marianne had flopped her purse down between them. “Hey can you grab my phone out—I have my music on it.” 

Bog felt a little weird sticking his hand into her purse, but after a moment of rummaging around he pulled out her phone. Marianne had put the key in and started the engine. 

“Okay now go to the music file and find the play list labeled Evil.” 

Bog blinked and lifted a brow at her. “Evil?” 

“I had that long before you.” She stuck her tongue out at him. 

Bog chuckled hooking up her phone to the player, touched the screen and started the first song playing. A bluesie rockabilly country song spilled out of the speakers. Bog chuckled. He started to sing along with the song almost immediately which had Marianne feeling goosebumps all up and down her spine. His voice was better than the original man singing; Bog's voice held a purring twang. 

“When you came in the air went out 

And every shadow filled up with doubt 

I don't know who you think you are 

But before the night is through 

I wanna do bad things with you...” 

Marianne felt the blush rushing over her cheeks and down her neck. Why did her personal demon have to be so sexy? And then to have a singing voice to match? Not fair at all, she thought as she pulled out onto the highway. 

When the song finished, Marianne grinned. “How did you know that song?” 

Bog chuckled. “Oh I've watched TV too. Being a demon isn't twenty-four hours of soul taking every single day.” 

Marianne laughed shaking her head. “You guys get breaks?” 

Bog chuckled. “Only for the good shows.” 

They both laughed. 

* 

Around one in the afternoon Marianne was thumping her fingers on the steering wheel as Bog sang along to a Tom Waits song. She loved the sound of his voice, made her insides all warm and goofy. She was smiling when her stomach made a very loud rumble of displeasure. It was loud enough that it managed to drown out the sounds of Tom Waits. 

Bog burst out laughing. “Hungry tough girl?” 

“Maybe a little.” Marianne blushed. “Can't you conjure something?” 

Bog snorted with a slight grin. “I could, but it wouldn't be the same.” 

Marianne opened her mouth about to ask what he meant when Bog pointed. “There's an exit up ahead, why don't we take that and see what we can find?” Marianne frowned, distracted for the moment and took the exit, following the road until she saw a diner not too far down the road with a huge unlit neon sign that read, “TICK TOCK DINER.” 

She grinned. “That's looks promising.” 

Bog shrugged. “Go for it.” 

They pulled in, finding a parking spot along the side of the restaurant. The diner looked like a place that hadn't changed at all since the 1970's. As they stepped inside, they saw that the place had simple square wooden tables with chairs, wood paneled walls and fake stone tile floor. Here and there were dried peppers hanging from the ceiling by each of the windows, and along the edge of the ceiling were the silhouettes of cows. The whole place was permeated by the warm smell of coffee and bacon. 

Marianne's stomach rumbled loudly again. 

Bog laughed. “We better feed you before that gets any louder.” Marianne stuck her tongue out at him only causing Bog to laugh more. 

A waitress hurried over to them with a large smile. She was short, plain looking, wearing a pink waitress outfit, but her smile made up for her lack of looks. “Hello, can I get you two a seat?” 

Marianne grinned. “Yes please.” 

“Right this way.” The waitress motioned them to follow her. She led them to a table by one of the windows that had the shades pulled down so that the light was subdued. “I'm you're waitress, my name is Jill. Now what can I get you two to drink?” she asked as she set the menus down in front of them. 

“Iced tea please.” Marianne picked up the menu. 

Bog smiled. “The same for me, Jill.” 

“Okay, be back with those in a minute!” Jill grinned turning around and headed off to get their drinks. 

Marianne scanned the menu. “Oh, everything looks good!” 

Bog laughed and was about to say something when suddenly a chair was slammed down at their table. They both jumped in surprise to see beautiful woman with long brown hair styled in a French braid down her back; her eyes were large and green and her smile was flat. 

She grinned. “Hey Bog.”


	8. Ain't No Grave

Bog 's eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. “Jezebel.” 

Reaching out to touch Bog's hand, which he quickly snatched away, the woman sighed. 

“Who is your little pet project I've heard so much about?” The woman turned to smile at Marianne. It was a smile that made Marianne want to belt her right in the jaw. The woman looked like she had just stepped off the Paris runway. She was dressed in snug fitting black dress that hit just above her knees. The dress had a shoulder V-back cut-out and front side slit which made the dress look extremely sexy. She paired the dress with a set of blood red, two inch heels contrasting with all the black she wore. 

Bog glanced at Marianne who looked annoyed. 

“Marianne, this is Jezebel. Jezebel, Marianne...now go away Jezebel.” 

Jezebel grinned. “You can call me Jez.” She said it to Marianne like they were old friends. 

“So you're Marianne, the one who is keeping our Bog so occupied.” Jezebel's eyes ran over Marianne, a slight curl on her lips just before she put her hand out to Marianne. 

Marianne started to take it, but Bog reached across the table and grabbed Marianne's wrist. “Don't.” 

Marianne looked startled, but she pulled her hand back. Jezebel giggled. “Oh Bog, always so careful!” 

Bog glared at the woman and repeated. “Jezebel...go away.” 

“Oh I will. Just had to see what all the fuss was about.” She grinned at Marianne again, showing a hint of fangs as she conjured a cigarette on one of those long holders that 

Marianne had only seen in the movies from the 1940's. The older woman took a long drag on the thing blowing out a thin line of smoke. 

“You must be very special Marianne. Bog's spending so much time with you that others are starting to notice—asking questions.” 

Marianne glanced at Bog worried. She didn't want Bog to get in trouble. Could demons get into trouble? Bog was glaring daggers at the other woman. He snarled low, his voice sounded gruff and dangerous. “What I do with my “charges” is my business.” 

Jezebel grinned about to say something else, when their waitress came over touching her shoulder. 

“Ah miss, we don't allow smoking in here.” 

Jezebel rolled her head around to stare at the young woman as if she were a bug, before taking a long drag on her cigarette. “Fine,” she purred taking the cigarette out of the long holder, dropping it to the floor and grinding it out with the ball of her very expensive looking shoes. 

Bog pushed his seat out. “Come on Marianne, let's get out of here.” 

Marianne would have argued (she didn't like being ordered around), but she was in agreement with Bog in this case. 

Jezebel smiled watching them go. “Tootles. Nice to meet you.” She watched them go with a smirk on her perfect lips. 

* 

Bog virtually threw himself into the car slamming the door hard. Marianne climbed in handing him the keys without a word. They pulled out of the diner hitting the road again, both of them quiet. 

They remained silent for a little while before Marianne spoke. “She.. is she going to follow us?” 

“No.” Bog glared at the road ahead, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. 

“How can you be so sure?” Marianne frowned watching him. Whoever this woman was, she really had Bog pissed off. His blue eyes seemed to have a flame burning behind them, glaring at the road ahead of them. Marianne chewed her bottom lip; she had a lot of questions, but she could tell he wasn't in the mood to answer them. 

After a few more minutes of intense quiet, Bog took a breath and pulled to the side of the road. The vehicle jumped, spitting gravel as he pulled off next to a field of sheep. 

The sheep turned and swarmed away when the car rolled to a stop. 

Bog closed his eyes. Marianne just watched him for a moment or two. She reached out and laid her hand on his thigh. 

“Bog? Are you alright?” Worry was apparent in her tone. Bog was a damn demon; if this other demon upset him then Jezebel must be really bad news. Bog surprised her when he dropped his hand from the steering wheel, laying his hand over the top of hers. After a few seconds Bog turned toward her. Then he removed his hand from hers. 

“I'm going to do something. It is going to look bad, but please, don't worry.” He gave her a small smile. 

He put his hand out flat, palm up. Marianne watched with rapt attention as he brought his other hand around, hovering over this hand. 

She could see something, like a shimmer of heat between his hands. It was hard to focus on, but there was just a hint of something invisible swirling between his palms. 

Then, right before Marianne's eyes, the nails of his left hand grew long, grey, deadly looking claws. It took everything in her not to squeak or yelp. She jerked in surprise, but she remained in her seat watching, though she did grab her door handle in surprise. 

Bog glanced up at her. His eyes glowed softly, the intense blue making her heart beat rapidly. He gave her a small smile that clearly communicated that he was sorry for startling her. He took his fore-claw, dragging it across his palm. Instantly Bog's palm filled with blood. 

“BOG!” Marianne started to grab for his hand but Bog made a fist snatching his hand back. 

“Shh...just wait,” he growled softly. Marianne glanced at his face, his expression was serious, intense in concentration. Whatever he was doing, she could tell it hurt him just by the pull around the skin of his eyes. She pressed her lips together and balled her hands into fists on her thighs to stop herself from reaching for him. 

Bog put his hand over the palm of blood closing his eyes. For a few moments he mouthed words that she couldn't hear. She simply watched the movement of his lips as he spoke, then he blew a breath in between his two hands. After a few more moments, he removed the one hand, the claws vanishing. Now, in his palm, was a perfect iron sewing needle. Marianne blinked in surprise, not what she was expecting. Bog reached forward. (he noticed that Marianne didn't jerk away from him. He took a breath, his eyes glancing toward her face, but she was watching him with complete trust which both made his heart swell with feeling, but also worried him. He was a demon after all, she shouldn't trust him...) He clasped the top of her shirt and slid the needle through the fabric near her collarbone. 

“You wear that, she won't be able to touch you,” Bog stated and sat back. 

Marianne frowned as she tilted her head to look down at the demon crafted object. “A pin?” 

Bog chuckled. “It's a sewing needle. She is ancient and that comes from a time when she was...human, so to speak, and something else. Jezebel has always been more than she appeared, which is what makes her so deadly. Anyway, as long as you wear it she won't be able to touch you.” 

“What about you?” Marianne frowned with concern. 

“Don't worry about me Marianne. I'll be fine.” Bog gave her a small smile. 

She wanted to argue with him, wanted him to do something to protect himself...she didn't understand exactly from what, or who Jezebel was., but instead she decided to let it go. Now was clearly not the time, she could tell he wouldn't answer her, but she would not let this go. She would be damned (okay , already damned she thought), but Bog had been nothing but kind to her, she was not going to let some bitch hurt him, which she would guess was Jezebel's purpose even if Marianne didn't know for certain. 

* 

An hour later Bog had found them another place to eat, pulling through a drive-thru and grabbing some burgers. They ended up eating in the vehicle parked along the back of the restaurant, their car facing the highway watching cars zipping along to destinations unknown. Bog was quiet, lost in thought, though they talked a little about music. Before they hit the road again, Marianne had retrieved her guitar from the back. She hadn't said why, but she had thought maybe playing for him would sooth whatever was bothering Bog since the appearance of Jezebel. 

Bog pulled back out onto the highway, a cigarette between his teeth while Marianne strummed the guitar, becoming used to the rolling of the vehicle beneath her while she played. After a few minutes she felt comfortable playing with the movement of the car and she began to sing. Bog glanced sideways at her. She looked lovely, her eyes closed, letting herself become part of the music. He started to beat his fingers in time to the music on his steering wheel as Marianne's fingers flew over the guitar, her singing a combination of her sweet pure voice, with just enough edge to make it damn sexy as she sang. 

“There ain't no grave can hold my body down 

There ain't no grave can hold my body down 

When I hear that trumpet sound I'm gonna rise right out of the ground 

Ain't no grave can hold my body down 

Well, look way down the river, what do you think I see? 

I see a band of angels and they're coming after me 

Ain't no grave can hold my body down 

There ain't no grave can hold my body down 

Well, look down yonder Gabriel, put your feet on the land and see 

But Gabriel don't you blow your trumpet 'til you hear it from me 

There ain't no grave can hold my body down 

Ain't no grave can hold my body down...” 

Bog recognized the song, and old song first written in 1934, a song about mortality and death. The most famous version had been sung by Johnny Cash. He smiled watching her sing thinking to himself that she was so damn beautiful, her voice could put angels to shame. 

Marianne was tapping her foot, her fingers playing like the devil himself had given her the gift, but Bog knew for a fact it was all her. Her eyes were closed as she continued, moving with the music. Bog smiled tenderly watching her, his heart was almost beating in time to her playing and singing. 

His lips trembled for a moment, a well of emotion overcoming him as he gazed at her. His heart twisting in his chest. No Bog, he told himself...no. She is not for you. She would never, nor could she ever be for you.... 

* 

Jezebel was sitting in a lawn chair, taking a long pull from the finely wrought cigarette holder that held her cigarette and glared into the distance. She sat in the middle of the desert, no one else was around for hundred of miles and for a few minutes she had complete quiet, when suddenly a young woman with long white hair appeared next to her. Jezebel glanced over at the plain young woman. She would be considered “cute” by others, but Jezebel thought of her servant as plain, the white hair only making her lack of beauty that much more noticeable. But that was one of the things that Jezebel liked about Pyka, her plain features made Jezebel's own attributes that much more beautiful. “Ah there you are Pyka, my imp. So, what have you learned?” 

Pyka frowned and answered in a voice as plain as her face. “There is nothing special about the woman. She is simply a soul that he had bargained with.” 

Jezebel frowned. “Well that can't be true! I mean, why is he spending so much time with this soul?” 

Pyka shrugged. “No idea mistress, maybe he likes her.” 

Jezebel frowned then threw her cigarette, holder and all out into the sand. “Well...DAMN IT!” 

Pyka pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh. 

Jezebel took a deep breath as if she were trying to calm herself. “Go...and...follow them.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. 

“Of course mistress.” With that Pyka disappeared leaving Jezebel to brood muttering to herself. “Why on…well...I'll just have to...fix his attention where it belongs. On me.” 

* 

Several hours later, Bog pulled over, guiding the vehicle through a lane to the rest stop. A few people were here, truck drivers, families, several people with dogs...the sun was warm and there were several trees and park benches providing plenty of space to stretch ones legs. Bog quiety hopped out, easing the door closed. Marianne was leaning against the window sleeping. He had thought stopping and letting Marianne sleep was a good idea. He smiled gazing at her for a long moment before he headed over to the soda machine. What Bog didn't see was the demon who appeared next to the vehicle. His thoughts were too filled with the feelings he was developing for his “charge” and the fact that he could do nothing about them. 

* 

Pyka held her cigarette between her teeth standing on tiptoe to watch Bog make his way to the soda machines. She then looked inside the vehicle at the sleeping woman. The young woman inside was pretty. Pyka took a long pull on her cigarette, a tiny smile forming on her lips. She hated Jezebel, but part of her selling her soul when she was alive was putting herself into Jezebel's service in the afterlife, except Jez hadn't made the terms of service clear; nothing in the agreement said that Pyka had to obey her, just serve. Pyka giggled taking a long pull of the cigarette again before blowing out a stream of smoke. There was no reason for her rush back to tell Jezebel anything...with that, she disappeared. 

* 

Marianne's eyes fluttered open, the quiet and stillness of the car woke her up. She sat up yawning, stretching her arms over her head before rubbing her eyes. She frowned as she looked around. She didn't see Bog and as she focused, she saw that he had pulled into a rest stop. 

She was just about to get out of the car when she saw him walking over with two bottles of soda. He was smiling, the sun shining down on him. He was dressed in jeans (which she hadn't noticed him wearing before...huh? She thought.) and a button down shirt, the same shade of blue as his eyes, all of which fit him—very well—accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. He looked really good she thought, with his tall slender frame, that smile. Marianne made a face at her own thoughts. As she watched him, a little girl ran up to him when her ball rolled into his path. He stopped and the little girl grabbed her ball, but then stopped to talk to him. It was the oddest thing watching a demon laughing as a little girl said something to him. A woman came over chasing after the little girl and picked her up. Bog was laughing, saying something to the woman which caused the little girl's mother, Marianne assumed, to laugh and nod before walking away. 

Bog is a really strange demon, she thought to herself. 

When he opened the door he smiled. “Ah, you're awake.” 

Marianne stretched her arms over her head. “Yep.” 

Bog handed her a soda bottle. “Root beer.” 

Marianne laughed. “How did you know?” 

Bog smiled tapping the side of his long pointed nose. “Demon trade secret.” 

“Oh you're funny. So, what did that little girl say?” Marianne asked as she carefully opened her root beer. 

“She wanted to know if I could fly.” Bog smiled softly looking out the window. 

“What?” Marianne frowned in confusion. 

“Children see with clear vision,” was all he said. Marianne frowned wanting to ask what he meant, but just as she opened her mouth to ask, she stopped herself. Instead she took a sip of her drink. “I think I'll stretch my legs, want to walk with me?” 

Bog turned his head with a smile. “Sure.” 

Once they stepped out, Bog pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. (She had never seen him actually carry a pack before, it must have been to appear human). He stuck the unlit cigarette between his lips, but he didn't light it; oddly enough it was already lit when he put it in his mouth. 

* 

They were silent as they walked. The rest stop butted up against a farmer's bit of land, the walking trail circling close to a field of sheep grazing peacefully. Bog took out his cigarette blowing the smoke into the light breeze. 

“How old are you?” Marianne suddenly asked. 

Bog glanced sideways at her. She was looking out at the field of sheep, holding her hands behind her back. 

“Old,” Bog said, his voice flat. 

“Okay, how old is Jezebel?” She tilted her head sideways to cast a sideways glance at him. 

“Very old,” Bog said grinning. 

Marianne made a face twisting her lips around. “Older than you?” 

“Yes.” Bog grinned clearly enjoying this game. 

Marianne chewed her bottom lip as they walked. “Was she the demon you made a deal with?” 

Bog frowned slightly, but then smiled. “No.” 

“So she is just this annoying bitch who is after you for some reason?” Marianne asked lifting her brows. Bog stopped, holding his cigarette between two fingers and started to laugh. Marianne blushed watching him. His laugh was pleasant to hear nd adorable! Marianne grinned then started to chuckle. 

Bog waggled his eyebrows at her. “You hit the nail on the head.” 

“Why is she after you?” Marianne asked taking this opportunity to stop and lean against one of the trees. 

Bog sighed. “Pride mostly. She is used to having men, demonic or otherwise, throwing themselves at her feet. I wasn't one of them.” He leaned against the tree next to her, their shoulders touching. She glanced up studying his profile while he spoke, blowing out long trails of smoke from his mouth or nose while he looked off into the distance. 

“So this is all about her getting you to fall in love with her?” Marianne frowned, the whole idea sounded so...human. 

Bog nodded. “In essence.” 

“Demons can fall in love?” Marianne frowned at the idea, but Bog smiled glancing sideways. “Anything can fall in love Marianne. Love is one of those universals, it exists for all no matter what they may be.” 

Marianne looked up at him. That was the one of the few times he had said her name since that night. The way her name sounded on his lips caused a rush of heat to flow over her. It was exciting, frightening and...wonderful. She smiled looking awkward for a moment quickly turning away from gazing at him. 

“So, have you been in love since becoming a demon?” Marianne asked without looking at him. Bog frowned holding his cigarette to his lips staring off into the distance, though not really seeing anything. He hesitated before he finally said, “No.” 

Marianne felt his words like a stab in her chest. Why on earth did his simple “No” make her feel that way? Stupid Marianne. She thought to herself. 

Bog's heart was beating quickly, but his mind told him to stop. She was just curious. A woman like her could never love him when he was human, let alone now...Bog closed his eyes. Love was something meant for others, not him. Love was meant for her. He was determined to help her find someone...damn it all to hell. 

Bog pushed off from the tree. “Let's get going.” 

Marianne glanced up at him frowning at the briskness of his tone, but she followed him back to the car without a word. 

* 

Pyke frowned from where she was hidden up in the branches of the tree they had just been leaning against. Something was up between the two of them . She smiled to herself as another way to get under Jezebel's skin presented itself to her. Love...between Bog and that human woman. That would royally piss off Jezebel if Bog was in love with the human and the human with him. True love was the one thing that Jezebel couldn't stand...Pyka giggled. It was perfect!


	9. Burn

As evening fell, Bog was still at the wheel while Marianne hummed softly while she picked out a random tune on her guitar. They had been on the road for a few hours without finding a place to stop. He thought that maybe he would need to drive through the night, which would mean Marianne would have to sleep in the car, but then he saw a sign for a motel. The sign, in large neon letters, read: Iron Horse motel. 

Bog sighed with relief; he didn't want Marianne sleeping in the car. She deserved a bed and a good night's rest. He pulled off the highway and followed the signs to the motel. When they pulled into the parking lot Marianne laughed. There by the lobby was an oversize horse sculpture made of iron. “They took the name literally didn't they?” 

Bog chuckled. “How much you want to bet the decor is all horses?” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh I'm not betting with you!” 

Bog chuckled. They parked the car alongside several motorcycles. Bog noticed the bar that sat right alongside the motel. He frowned. Marianne followed his gaze. “Something wrong?” she asked. 

Bog chewed his bottom lip. “I...I feel a pull...someone in there is wanting to make a deal.” 

Marianne couldn't help it. She looked horrified. “You aren't going to go in there are you?” 

Bog frowned glancing sideways at Marianne. “I...if I don't, someone worse might.” 

“What do you mean?” Marianne asked as she turned to fully face him. 

Bog rubbed the back of his neck with one hand looking at the bar and then at her. “I do my best to make the best deals possible...to try to not hurt anyone. Sometimes people want things that hurt others...I try to stop that, or sometimes they try to make deals that don't always give them exactly what they want, but what they think that want...I try to help them.” 

Marianne smiled softly gazing at Bog. “You help them?” 

Bog shrugged. “I try. Sometimes a human is bad, through and through....I can only do so much.” 

“Do good people make deals?” Marianne asked softly. 

Bog nodded. “Yes. It isn't always about good and evil Marianne...it's not that clear. But I do what I can.” Bog smiled softly. 

Marianne nodded. “All right then...let's go freshen up and hit the bar, see who wants to make a deal.” 

* 

The bar itself was actually pretty nice as far as bars go, Marianne thought as she and Bog walked in. Bog was dressed in a pair of black jeans, a black t-shirt and heavy, a black leather vest over the shirt, steel toed boots, and a cigarette between his lips. The damn demon looked good...very good, she thought. She glanced upward at him as they stepped in, his hands in his front pockets. He's the best looking man in here, she thought after a quick look around. Marianne looked completely out of place in her jean shorts, purple tights and bright coral boho top with a rounded split neck, embroidered trim, shirred yoke and dolman cap sleeves and a pair of purple converse high-tops. Marianne wrinkled her nose. She looked too...cute for a biker bar, the demon realized. 

Bog leaned down to quietly utter a warning. “Stay close to me.” 

Marianne nodded vigorously reaching out and wrapping her arm around his. Bog looked down at her, his old heart picking up speed. Marianne smiled up at him. Bog led her over to the bar. The floors were hardwood, clean and highly polished. The bar had a huge motorcycle hanging over it as decoration along with several flags from different countries, as well as several hubcaps. There was a fairly new looking pool table, a flat screen TV in one corner, and your typical dart board. The lighting was a nice warm gold and red, the stools were red leather, and everything looked comfortable and fun. Bog led her over to the bar where Marianne hopped up onto one of the stools, Bog standing next to her. 

The woman who was tending bar, an attractive older woman in a black tank top, her long brown hair wrapped in a braid around the top of her head, walked over to them with a smile. “What can I get you two?” 

Marianne smiled in return. “Just a beer please.” 

Bog was leaning with his back to the bar, but glanced at the bartender over his shoulder. “Whiskey, neat.” 

“Coming right up!” The bartender said cheerily. 

Marianne turned around on her stool. “So—who is it?” she asked looking around at everyone in the bar. There were a LOT of people, most of them clearly bikers based on the way they were dressed. Bog's blue eyed glazed over as if he were looking at something in the distance then he pointed. “That one.” 

Marianne saw a rather attractive man playing pool. He was handsome enough that he could be a model with thick black hair, gorgeous green eyes, just enough of a beard and mustache to be sexy without being bushy. Marianne frowned. “What could he possibly want that he would want to sell his soul?” 

Bog gave Marianne a disgusted look. “Basing that on his looks are you?” 

Marianne blushed looking embarrassed. Bog snorted. “That is one thing that humans always do, they base the goodness, capability, and moral standing of a person on their looks. I've known some of the ugliest people in the world to have the truest, most beautiful hearts Marianne.” 

Marianne turned to look at him, her voice soft enough that Bog didn't hear her over the music from the jukebox. “And sometimes a demon isn't demonic, yeah, I'm figuring that out.” 

The bartender set their drinks down. “There ya go. Hey, got an open mic tonight if you guys want to stick around.” 

Marianne paled as Bog's smile spread across his face. Marianne noted that she liked the way that little wrinkles formed at the corners of Bog's eyes when he smiled. “Oh you do, do you?” 

The bartender nodded. “Yep. You two interested in participating?” 

Bog laughed. “Yes, yes she is.” 

Marianne glared, her eyes narrowing. “We both are.” 

“Cool, give me your names and I'll sign you both up!” The bartender smiled. Marianne was quick, a wicked little grin dancing across her lips. “His name is Bog.” 

Bog chuckled. “And her name is Marianne.” 

The bartender chuckled. “I'll sign you both up then.” 

Bog picked up his drink, downing it in one swallow while maintaining a straight face. Marianne blinked at him. Bog laughed. “The Scottish drink to die. Haven't you heard that joke before?” 

Marianne shook her head picking up her beer and taking a sip. “Can't say I have. Okay, so how does this work? I mean, you making a deal.” 

Bog smiled. “Well, first, I'm going to let him beat me in a few games of pool...win his confidence. Then, I'm going to crush him.” 

Marianne giggled. “Oh, I bet he won't like that.” 

Bog chuckled. “They never do. Come on.” He reached over taking her hand. Marianne felt a rush of pleasure at his touch. 

* 

The pool game had just ended and the man in question leaned on his pool stick watching a young woman, a gorgeous young woman with long, thick red hair, bright green eyes; she was absolutely stunning, he thought, but she was sitting on the lap of another guy with her arms around his neck. The guy with the red-head wasn't nearly as good-looking as the guy in question. He was heavy, nice looking, though not model attractive like the pool-guy. And the redhead seemed to adore him. It was clear to Marianne that she was in love with the big guy whose lap she was on and he loved her, the way the guy kept stroking her hair back from her face. Marianne smiled. It was sweet. But the pool-guy kept staring longingly at the red-head. 

Bog strolled over to the pool table, picking up a pool cue from a wall rack on his way. He stopped at the table taking his cigarette out and blowing a line of smoke. “So, you up for a game pretty boy?” 

The young man turned around from his staring at the redhead to frown. He gave Bog a once over curling his lip, but then noticed Marianne and smiled. “Sure.” 

Bog grinned, holding his cigarette between his teeth. “So you care to wager?” 

The young man laughed. “Sure old man. What you want to wager?” 

“Let's start off small...drinks. The name's Bog.” 

The younger man put his hand out. “Call me Jon. And who's your gorgeous companion?” 

Marianne put her hand out. “Marianne.” Jon grinned at her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “What's a fox like you doing hanging out with this old guy?” Jon laughed then turned to Bog. “Just kidding,” he said in a tone that Marianne decided was not a kidding voice. “Okay, drinks it is!” 

Bog grinned, but only Marianne saw the flatness in Bog's eyes when Jon had made the comment about her being with him. Marianne felt a stab of annoyance, making her want to put Jon in his place with a few well aimed words at his ego, but instead she only smiled and pulled up a seat to watch Bog work. 

* 

Marianne crossed her legs as she watched the game. She could see that Bog wasn't playing to his full capacity, not that she knew a lot about pool. There was just something about the way he leaned over and broke the balls, the way he held his cue stick...she couldn't put her finger on it, but she was sure Bog was playing Jon, even if he had not told her that was his plan. The first round went to Jon with Bog paying not just for Jon's drinks, but for all of Jon's friend. 

Jon grinned at Bog. “Up for another game? Maybe we should bet money instead.” 

Bog laughed. “Feeling lucky are we?” 

Jon grinned. “Yep.” 

“Okay, how much?” Bog smiled leaning his hip on the table. Jon stuck his lip out for a moment in thought, then grinned. “Hundred dollars?” 

Bog shrugged with a grin. (Only Marianne could see the slight hint of his fangs behind the smile). “Sure.” 

This time as they played, Bog's skill improved, but he also started to talk more. “So what brings you here, to a biker bar in the middle of nowhere Jon?” 

Jon leaned over taking a shot. He hit the ball a little too hard causing it to hit the side of the table and nearly bounce, missing his intended target. He made a face at the shot and sighed. 

“Oh, just wanted to get out have a good time. Not much to do around here. Middle of nowhere, right?” 

“That it?” Bog walked around the table, winking at Marianne as he did so. She couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up. Bog leaned over, lined up his shot, and called it—two balls. He closed one eye, leaning far down. Marianne thought the way he leaned, his long fingers holding the cue stick easily, was pretty darn sexy. Bog hit the ball, easily making his shot, the ball ricochet forcing two balls into two different pockets. She heard Jon curse under his breath. 

Bog smiled standing up looking over at Jon with a raised brow at the fact that Jon had yet to answer his question. 

Jon shrugged. “Well, there's this girl...” Jon glanced at the red-head. Bog followed his gaze. 

“She seems to have a boyfriend,” Bog stated lining up his shot. Marianne swallowed. Bog had his back to her when he leaned over to line up the shot and damn it all, but he had a nice ass in those jeans!!! With the suits he usually wore she hadn't really gotten a good look...not that she had been looking, but...wow. She had to force herself to look away. 

Bog made the shot. Jon whistled. “Good one, old man.” 

Bog grinned. “What if you could sell your soul to be...I don't know...popular...desirable...happy?” 

Jon laughed. “Nah, I wouldn't sell my soul for happiness. Geez, I would sell my soul all right, but I would sell it to have her.” Jon pointed with his cue stick at the red-head. 

Bog frowned as Jon continued. “I would sell my soul to have her lick my boots. Like my slave...she would do anything I wanted.” Jon grinned while Bog turned a little pale with disgust. 

Marianne blinked in shock. She thought Jon was going to say something about her noticing him, or falling in love with him, but this... 

Bog narrowed his eyes moving around the pool table. “What if I told you that you could sell you soul for a way to make her want to do that?” 

Marianne looked shocked, her brow furrowing at Bog. She was about ready to say something; she couldn't believe Bog would let this guy have his way and make that woman a slave! But Bog noticed her start to get up from the corner of his eyes. He held a finger up, stopping her in her place. 

Bog continued speaking, his voice having a low almost hypnotic quality that was damn alluring. 

“You could sell your soul to become the most wanted man in the world...women would be throwing themselves at you, even her.” Bog gestured toward the red-head. 

Jon grinned. “Are you serious?” 

Bog smiled. This time though, Marianne and Jon could see his fangs and the slight glow to Bog's eyes. The space around just the three of them seemed to become darker, as if the three of them were cut off from the others. 

“Oh, I'm deadly serious.” Bog's voice was a whisper, but Marianne and Jon could hear him, no one else in the bar seemed to notice or hear the conversation going on. 

Jon stared in fascinated horror. “You...you could do that?” 

Bog grinned, his fangs clearly on display now. “I'm a demon Jon. I could do that. You give me your soul and I can make is so that every woman you see will throw themselves at you. They will want to badly enough that they will do anything to get you, for the rest of your life.” 

Jon stared at Bog then nodded, a rather nasty grin forming across his features. “Yes. Yes I agree.” 

Marianne made a disgusted face. Jon was a lot like Roland...she was sure if Roland had a chance to have women throwing themselves at him, the jerk would have taken it in a heartbeat too. Marianne glared at Bog. She couldn't believe that Bog was going to give this jerk that kind of power over women. That was just...wrong. 

Bog reached out his hand and Jon took the offered hand. Bog gave his hand a hard shake. Marianne felt it, like a ripple over her skin. Jon had just sealed the deal, so to speak. 

Jon grinned. “So what happens? When are women going to start throwing themselves at me?” he asked eagerly. 

Bog backed away slowly, grinning. “Now.” 

A woman walked by and stopped, turning to stare at Jon. Jon grinned at her. The woman turned fully around, giving Jon a disgusted look, and slapped him across the face. 

Marianne nearly spit beer through her nose. 

Another woman noticed the commotion, turning, catching sight of Jon. She narrowed her eyes before rushing over to him and slapping him hard across the face. It wasn't long before all the women in the bar were trying to get to Jon, yelling, slapping and just a general rumble to attack Jon. Jon started yelling. “Take it back!! I don't want the deal!!” 

Bog laughed. “Too late I'm afraid. All deals...are final.” 

Jon ended up leaving the bar in a rush with several women after him. 

Marianne was laughing. “I see what you did.” 

Bog laughed. “Yes, another demon might have actually given him what he wanted, but someone like that...he deserves what he gets...” 

Marianne laughed and kissed Bog on the cheek. “That was wonderful Bog.” She smiled and walked over to the bar. Bog blinked in surprise stepping back, watching her walk away and touching his cheek in awe, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 

* 

After another hour, with Bog teaching Marianne how to play pool (which Marianne was enjoying immensely, the way Bog had to lean in close to her. As for Bog he was having a hard time focusing on teaching...every time he was close to her, he was overcome by the sweet smell of her skin, the fragrance of her hair.) And then the open mic began. Bog, seating Marianne once again at the bar with a fresh beer, went out to their room to pick up her guitar and materialize his violin. He found Marianne sitting at the bar drumming her fingers in time to the music, while a young man stood beside her, clearly trying to talk to Marianne who was only giving him a little of her attention. Bog's lip curled when he saw the man trying to hit on Marianne, his first reaction to lash out, to show that...that boy...Then Bog calmed himself. No. No, he told himself as he walked over to Marianne. She..she needs to find someone...someone not him. 

“I have your guitar,” he said when he was close enough. The young man and Marianne turned to look at Bog who smiled. “Hello.” He nodded to the much younger man. 

The young man frowned, glancing at Marianne. “Oh...you really do have a boyfriend, you weren't just saying that to get rid of me.” 

Marianne smiled. “Told you. Hey Bog, thank you!” She hopped up from her stood taking her guitar case and wrapped her arm around Bog's waist, yanking him close. “Nice talking to you Richard.” 

Bog stumbled slightly when Marianne yanked his whole body against hers. She gave Richard a smile before she pulled Bog away with her. 

Bog chuckled. “Boyfriend?” 

Marianne made a face. “I had to tell that guy something. He just wouldn't leave me alone!” 

Bog followed her, shaking his head. “Not your type I gather?” 

Marianne made another face. “Nah. Besides, I wanted to have a nice evening with you.” She found an empty table and claimed it before anyone else saw him. She set her guitar case down and pulled out a chair. Bog set his violin case on the table taking the chair next to hers. “With me, eh?” 

Marianne chuckled at the expression on Bog's face. “Yes, with you.” 

“I would have thought you had had enough of me.” Bog said it lightly, but he worried...Marianne laughed and took his hand giving it a squeeze. “I like your company Bog.” 

For a moment they stared at each other, the tension between them building. Marianne held his hand, staring into those blue eyes...eyes she could fall into. Bog stared back at her wondering if, in all his years, he had ever seen eyes so lovely...when the announcer called out. “Marianne Summerfield! Come on up, the mic is yours!” 

Marianne jerked in surprise, dropping Bog's hand. She looked at the stage then glanced at Bog. 

“You go first.” 

Bog frowned. “Why?” 

Marianne stuck her bottom lip out. “Please?” 

Bog laughed. “Why the nerves suddenly?” 

“I...I don't know what I want to sing yet.” Marianne smiled weakly. 

Bog chuckled. “All right.” He stood, speaking up as he walked crossed the room and stepped up onto the stage. “My friend Marianne would like to go after me, so sorry folks—you got me next.” 

Bog grinned and the audience chuckled. 

The announcer walked over next to Bog. He glanced at Bog and his violin case, then leaned in toward the mic. 

“Alright everyone, our next act has a violin...a little different for you bunch of animals. So behave or else I'm going to beat the shit out of each and every one of you!” 

The audience laughed. Marianne watched Bog on the stage. He stood behind the announcer, taking his violin out of its case, looking several levels of hot. He took a couple of seconds to tune his instrument. He glanced up once, his blue eyes wandering over the crowd. A couple of people whistled and some lady yelled. “Hey, tall drink of water!” 

Bog chuckled leaning toward the microphone. “This is for someone special. She is an amazing woman.” 

Bog's eyes immediately zeroed in on Marianne. She felt a hot blush race up her neck and over her cheeks. The audience let out a series of hoots and whistles as someone turned one of the stage lights on her so everyone could get a good look before switching it back toward Bog. So much for keeping a low profile while working up her nerve to be on stage. 

Bog brought the violin up under his cheek, then with a wink in Marianne's direction, he started to play. Marianne was immediately mesmerized watching his fingers dance over the neck of the instrument. 

But then Bog leaned in and started to sing, his blue eyes catching her brown ones across the floor. 

* 

“These embers burn down low 

And with my face aglow 

You are all I know 

Set this place on fire 

Watch the flames rise higher 

As they reach the ceiling 

At your feet I'm kneeling 

* 

Bog closed his eyes for a moment, the violin singing beside him as his fingers caressed the strings. Marianne took a shuddering breath when he leaned back into the microphone. 

* 

“Drawing ever near 

My cause revealed as clear 

Yes I burn for you here 

Set this place on fire 

Watch the flames rise higher 

As they reach the ceiling 

At your feet I'm kneeling 

With every trailing plume 

Know it bears me home” 

* 

Bog played the harmony, weaving a spell through the audience, the magic only him, his music, and his voice. He opened his eyes again, singing from his heart to her. He hadn't meant to do it when he walked onto the stage. Bog didn't mean to lay himself bare like this, but it had just happened, as if he, a demon, had no control over his heart. 

* 

I would give it all 

Yes, I would give it all... 

Set this place on fire 

Watch the flames rise higher 

As they reach the ceiling 

At your feet I'm kneeling 

With every trailing plume 

Know it bears me home 

Let it burn.... 

* 

The song ended and Bog stood on the stage paralyzed not just by his own song, but by the stunned silence of the crowd. Marianne felt pierced to the spot by his gaze. But then Bog closed his eyes and turned away, breaking the spell. Someone started clapping, then another, and another until the whole bar was on its feet, yelling their approval. 

Marianne's heart was racing. What had just happened? 

But she didn't have time to think about it before her name was being called on stage as the last performer of the night. 

She grabbed her guitar and walked past Bog. She reached out, the tips of her fingers touching his arm as she walked by him. 

Bog turned in surprise at the touch, but she was already out of reach and stepping onto the stage. 

* 

Marianne pulled a stool up with her, getting herself situated. She leaned into the microphone. “Not sure how to follow that performance.” 

That earned her a few laughs. Bog, watching her from a seat off to the side chuckled and blushed. She strummed her guitar a few times and then spoke again. “This is a song from a group call Warpaint...Love is to Die.” 

Her gaze found Bog's blue eyes. She wasn't exactly sure why this song came to her. She knew she was feeling something for her personal demon, something deep. But she wasn't quite ready to examine the feeling too closely. But the song... 

“Your eyes stare 

Am I humble as I go 

I’m holding in tight 

To something long as I go 

Am I humble as I go 

I found a way 

To look towards this day 

But it all hooked up 

This could only go one way 

I’m not alive, I’m not alive without you 

I’m not alive, I’m not alive without you... 

* 

Bog swallowed. She was so beautiful, talented...he sighed heavily when he heard a high feminine voice beside him. “I think she likes you.” 

Bog turned to see Pyka sitting beside him. Bog scowled. “What are you doing here? Jezebel send you to spy on me?” 

Pyka pulled out the small cigarette she had between her lips. “Yes, but I haven't told her anything yet.” 

Bog frowned. He was still listening to Marianne, but Pyka was distracting him. 

“I'm here on my own. I want to help you.” She smile showing rows of tiny, needle sharp teeth. 

Bog chuckled derisively. “Help me? You? Why on earth or in hell...” 

“I want to help you because it's clear to me that you're in love with that woman.” Pyka pointed at Marianne. 

Bog looked flushed. “No I'm not.” 

Pyka laughed. “Are you blind or stupid? Or both? I can tell you're in love and you know what? If I know Jezebel—and I do—she is going to figure it out and she'll be gunning for your girl there.” 

Bog's frown increased. “I gave Marianne an iron pin. Jezebel can't touch her.” 

Pyka chuckled taking a long drag of her cigarette. “Who said Jezebel has to do it herself and who says she has to touch her. You know there are a million or more ways to hurt a human without ever touching them.” 

“If you...” Bog started, but Pyka held up her hand continuing. “Bog I would never hurt you or your human. I hate Jezebel just as much if not more than you. That's why I'm here. Jezebel thinks I'm spying for her, but she didn't say I couldn't help you.” 

Bog chuckled. “Exploiting your contract's loopholes?” 

Pyka grinned impishly, her cigarette held between her teeth. Bog shook his head with real humor. “Jezebel never was good with making solid contracts.” 

“So, you willing to trust me?” Pyka asked. 

Bog glanced up on the stage watching Marianne. Her gaze was on him again while she sang. 

“Love is to die, love is to not die, love is to dance 

Love is to dance 

Love is to die, love is to not die, love is to dance 

Love is to dance “ 

* 

Bog pressed his lips together in a thin line. His heart ached. He didn't want anything to happen to Marianne because of his foolishness, his stupidity in falling for her. He glanced at Pyka. “All right, but if you hurt her, or screw me over, you'll think working for Jezebel is a picnic.” 

Pyka laughed, but when Bog glanced over, she was gone.


	10. Black is the color of my true love's hair

Jezebel was waiting patiently for Pyka to return...maybe not patiently but at least she was occupied while she waited. She hated waiting, she had always hated waiting when she was alive and especially now that she was a demon. She lay on a king-size bed with a young woman lying naked beside her who had just given her soul to Jezebel. Jezebel smiled running her fingertips over the young woman's chest as she slept. They had sealed the deal her favorite way...with sex. The young woman had sold her soul for fame...little did the young woman know that that fame would come from being the last victim of a serial killer...the victim that would cause the killer to be caught, but her name would indeed be famous. 

Jezebel sighed happily. Until this young woman's inevitable demise, she might have to have another round of sex with her latest procurement because the young lady was quite energetic. Jezebel had just thought about waking the young woman up when Pyka appeared in a darkened corner of the room, the only thing giving the younger demon away was the little light catching her white hair. 

“There you are.” Jezebel sat up with a frown. “So where is he? What is going on with him and that woman?” 

Pyka controlled her reactions, not sighing with exasperation, no smiling; just a blank face. To help keep her expression neutral, Pyka materialized a cigarette. Sticking the cigarette into her mouth kept Pyka from snapping at Jezebel. 

“Yes, I found him. Bog and the woman are just traveling together. No idea where they are going—I saw them at a bar near a motel and before that at a rest stop.” Pyka took a long pull on her cigarette holding the smoke in her mouth for a long moment before blowing it out. 

Jezebel frowned. “They are just randomly driving? Wait...a motel?” 

“I guess...” Pyka kept her smile under control. “Yes a motel.” 

Jezebel narrowed her eyes in frustration. “Go back and find out where they are going! Maybe I can arrange to be there when they arrive.” Jezebel grinned happily, formulating strategies. 

Pyka rolled her eyes, but Jezebel wasn't looking. 

* 

Marianne was laughing when they finally returned to their room that evening. She had had just a little too much to drink after her performance. She wanted to say that she wasn't sure why she had drank that much. What had it been? Six...seven beers maybe? Oh yeah, and then she had done a few shots when those girls had come in celebrating their girlfriend's wedding... 

But if she was honest with herself, Marianne knew exactly why she had drank too much. Bog. 

She wasn't just attracted to him, (she would have to be blind not to see how great his ass looked in those jeans or the muscles on his tattooed arms...the way he wore those suits of his...well, she wasn't blind was she!?) The worst part was that these feelings were deeper than simple physical attraction. Physical attraction she could have ignored, but she actually liked Bog the demon. There was something sweet about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Something lonely, lost almost...part of her attraction was the need to save him from himself. But he was smart, funny, talented...and those eyes!! Bog had these soulful blue eyes that just broke her heart when he looked at her sometimes! 

She shouldn't like him right? She told herself. Or maybe all demons were likable? What...no...she didn't like Jezebel at all, so it probably wasn't a natural “demon” thing. Then what was it? But those feelings for Bog were there, hard and painful in her chest, and she just didn't know what to do with those feelings. So she had done the stupid thing instead. She drank too much. 

Now, as Bog did his best to keep her on her feet, she couldn't stop herself from giggling. Bog, with his arm around her waist, guided her into their motel room. 

“Bog, Bog! Tell me something...” Marianne grinned as he unlocked the motel room door. She kept melting against his side, her body suddenly losing the battle with gravity as her knees went weak. 

“What do you want to know Marianne?” Bog chuckled softly as he picked her up bridal-style to carry her into the room. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck and kicked her legs. “Woohoo!!” 

Bog laughed at her antics, shaking his head. He carried her into the motel room and deposited her onto her bed. Marianne giggled flopping back with her arms wide. 

“Okay, okay tell me—do you like me?” Marianne giggled lying back moving her arms up and down as if she were trying to make a snow angel with the sheets. 

Bog closed and locked their door before turning around to face her. He slipped the vest off, holding the object up by his fingers for a moment, the garment vanishing in an instant. 

Marianne snorted a giggle. “That must save tons on laundry and packing!!” 

Bog smiled in her direction. “It does.” 

He walked over to sit on the edge of Marianne's bed, reaching for her feet which she pulled away with a giggle. He sighed finally managing to snag one of her ankles, not hard, just firmly and started to untie her shoelaces. 

“Yes, I like you,” Bog said without looking at her while he worked the laces loose and pulled the shoe off, dropping it to the floor before reaching for her other foot. 

“Do you like me, like me?” Marianne asked staring at the ceiling and giggling. 

Bog frowned concentrating on her shoe. “I'm not sure I understand the question.” 

Marianne pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Like...like, like,” she emphasized with her palms up and her eyebrows raised, as if that would help make her point. “More than like, but not quite love like.” She grinned as she tilted her head to the side, looking at him sideways. 

Bog sighed with a laugh. “You aren't making any sense, you know that right?” 

Marianne giggled again. “I think I like-like you.” 

“Oh?” Bog stood up, a slight frown marring his face. He reached under Marianne, easily pulling the covers down despite her weight on them. 

Marianne giggled. “Yup.” 

She arched her body off the bed, undoing the button of her shorts and began to do an awkward shimmy with her hips in order to slide them off. Once she had the shorts off, she started the same strange gymnastics feat with her tights. Bog turned away quickly. 

“Marianne...” he sighed and without looking at her, materialized a nightgown. It was a soft white cotton gown, slightly dated, but Marianne snatched it out of his hands. He didn't turn around for a full minute giving her a chance to undress and slip it over her head. When he had calculated that she had had enough time, he turned around to see her drunkenly sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing the gown, which made her look a decade younger, her clothing on the floor by the bed. 

“You said demons can fall in love right?” she asked with a drunk giggle. Apparently, Bog thought, she is a giggling drunk. 

Bog sighed walking over and pulling the sheets back further, holding them up so Marianne could wiggled underneath. 

“Yes I did.” Bog pulled the blankets up around her once she was settled in and tucked them around her. Marianne giggled again, but something else was in her voice, something...deeper than the alcohol, deeper than idle and curious questions. 

“Could you fall in love with me?” Marianne stared up at him, her big brown eyes looking so sincere. 

“I could,” he whispered. 

Drunk Marianne grinned happily. “I could fall in love with you,” she said softly. 

Bog sighed. “You are very drunk.” He reached over and gently stroked some of her hair back from her forehead. 

Marianne giggled then put her bottom lip out. “Will you sing me to sleep?” 

Bog looked down at her for a long moment. He chuckled at the drunk, yet childlike expression in her eyes before he sighed. “Fine.” 

Marianne grinned wide pulling an arm out from under the blankets and patting the bed next to her. He thought about refusing, but instead he sat down next to her. Marianne scooted over. “Lie down so we can snuggle.” She pouted drunkenly. 

Bog chuckled. “Demanding when yer drunk,” he muttered with a grin, but he laid down, putting his arm up so that Marianne could snuggle against his side, settling her head on his lap. Bog glanced down, bringing the tips of his fingers up to stroke her hair. She closed her eyes smiling. Bog sighed again. She was...Why was he doing this to himself he wondered, but she felt good against him, natural. 

“I know an old song you might like...” Bog spoke softly. 

Marianne, her eyes still closed, only snuggled closer in answer. Bog smiled and softly sang. 

* 

“Black is the color of my true love`s hair 

Her lips are like some roses fair 

She`s the sweetest face and the gentlest hands. 

I love the ground whereon she stands 

I love my love and well she knows 

I love the ground whereon she goes. 

But some times I wish the day will come 

That she and I will be as one 

* 

Bog watched Marianne's face as he sang. He could tell when she started to relax and began to drift off to sleep, but he continued singing until he was absolutely sure she was deeply asleep. She looked so young and innocent. He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered to himself. 

“Damn it Bog...damn it.” 

He opened his eyes again to gaze at her face, reaching over with the fingers of his opposite hand to traced the shape of her lips. Marianne squirmed a little, wiggling her lips in her sleep. He chuckled and realized that he loved her. He couldn't deny his feelings to himself, though he tried. He had fallen so easily in love with her, almost from the moment he made the deal with her. He smiled, but there was pain laced with the gesture. When she was gone he would be hollow again. Bog closed his eyes against the tears that stung behind his lids. He had to make sure that she won...that she would never see him again. She deserved happiness, love...a life. He would make sure she received everything, all of it...everything within his power that he could give to her. 

* 

Marianne woke to the delicious smell of coffee. For a few moments she just laid there enjoying the smell. But after a little bit her bladder decided to be a jerk and remind her she needed to go to the bathroom. She sat up with a groan, grabbing her head, last night immediately catching up to her once she was vertical again. 

“Oh shit—hangover,” she muttered 

That was when she heard the sound of Bog chuckling from the other side of the room. 

“Such language,” he said cheerfully. 

Marianne, who had closed her eyes against the pain in her head, opened one eye to glare at him. The demon was sitting at the small table and chairs that came with the room, dressed in jeans, a white button-down shirt that was not tucked into said jeans and a pair of motorcycle boots. A cigarette dangled from between two fingers, his long legs crossed with some book resting on his knee. His short hair was slicked back, though one rebellious lock of black hair fell over his brow. 

Marianne was sober enough to appreciate how good he looked, but she still muttered in a tone that bordered on miserable, “Let me guess, demons don't get hangovers?” 

Bog grinned at that, showing his fangs. “Nope, though if you will remember, you did all the drinking.” 

Marianne made a face. “Please tell me I didn't do anything...embarrassing.” 

Bog's smile was soft, tender. “No, you were fine. Just did a lot of giggling. Here have some coffee.” Bog stood up, walking over with a Styrofoam cup. 

Marianne groaned holding her hand out for it. Bog stepped closer putting the warm cup into her hand. “Is there anything you can do for this headache? I feel like several tiny men are working at my forehead with hammers.” She groaned holding the cup up to her nose and taking a long inhale of the delicious nectar. 

Bog chuckled. “I can.” 

He sat on the bed next to her. He started to reach out for her head, then stopped. “Is is all right if I touch you?” 

Marianne gave a slight nod. “Of course Bog.” 

He frowned slightly. The way she had just said “of course,”the phrase had just come out so naturally, as if she would let him touch her whenever...she trusted him. He smiled and laid his fingers gently on her head, one hand on either side of her head, his touch gentle. “Close your eyes.” Marianne did, a slight smile on her lips. The pressure of his fingers felt nice against her scalp. He moved his fingers ever so slightly, up and down, which caused Marianne to groan. 

“That feels so nice!” 

As Bog chuckled continuing to rub, she could feel a sort of warmth permeating her head from his fingers. The warmth seemed to seep down through her skin coating her head and pushing away the headache, then washing away the bad taste in her mouth and the soreness of her entire body until there was nothing left of her hangover. 

Marianne groaned loudly her brown eyes opening to smile up at Bog. “Thank you so much!” 

Bog chuckled settling his hands back onto his lap. “Let's not make that a habit all right?” 

“The magical demon head massage or the drinking?” Marianne grinned taking a sip of her coffee. Bog smiled in return. “The drinking.” 

“Oh, that means the magical demon head massages are still on the table!” Marianne winked at him. She took another sip of the hot liquid before she asked. “I didn't do anything, um, silly did I?” 

Her memories of last night after she sang on stage were fuzzy. Bog reached out, stroking his fingers along her cheek pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You were fine Marianne. I promise.” 

Marianne blushed glancing down at the coffee in her hands, then back up at Bog sitting next to her, his fingertips still touching her cheek. Bog slowly brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek then slowly along her chin. The gesture was, she realized with a happy sigh, extremely tender. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like such a long time, Bog's thumb caressing just under her lower lip, his fingers delicately cupping her chin. Marianne leaned toward Bog. She felt pulled toward him, as if they were magnetized, tugging her in his direction. Bog felt a strange pull in his chest, guiding him toward Marianne. He didn't understand what it was...this..pull toward her, only that it was the most wondrous thing he had felt in many, many years. 

Marianne's eyes dropped to Bog's mouth. She wondered about his lips, were they as soft as they looked? What would he taste like? Cigarettes and whiskey? Ashes and brimstone, or something she couldn't find words for. Would he taste...perfect? She leaned closer still, her eyes gliding from his mouth back to his blue, blue eyes, then down again to his perfectly formed lips. The thought drifted through her mind: What would his tongue feel like against hers? Would she feel his fangs against her lips? 

Bog's breath quickened. He knew without kissing her that her lips would taste like summer days, her tongue would be sweet...to feel her arms around him...to hold her and be held...Bog couldn't remember the last time he had held anyone, let alone kiss anyone. He knew that if he kissed her that he would never want to come back, that he would doom her with his own selfishness to keep her. He loved her too much. Yes, he loved her...too much to kiss her, to subject her to his love. 

Bog didn't move, it was as if he couldn't move, struck to the spot by a pair of amber brown eyes and a petite smile. His heart was hammering in his chest, which was odd. He had felt it before over the years, but he had always wondered, was it real or just him remembering what the beat of a heart felt like? Marianne leaned toward him, her lips pressing slightly together, forming a sweet bow ready for a tender kiss. He wanted to kiss her, heaven and hell he wanted to kiss her...he started to moved toward her, started to stroke his fingers down her throat, feeling the silky softness of her neck under his fingers. He wanted to take her lips, her tongue, to feel that fire against his mouth, but he couldn't. He cared too much for her. 

He dropped his hand from her neck and started to stand up, but Marianne reached over grabbing his hand. “Bog?” 

“Marianne...I..uh...” Bog stumbled over his words. 

Marianne stood up continuing to hold his hand, confusion clear in her voice and expression. “Bog? I...” 

He continued to hold her hand as well, part of him telling himself to let go, but the other part of him couldn't, though he did look away from her, breaking the hold her eyes had on him for the moment. “You...uh...should shower so we can hit the road. I think we still have a couple of more days if we make good time. Umm...are you hungry? I just grabbed coffee, I wasn't sure if you would want to eat anything.” 

“Bog...look at me. Please.” Marianne's voice was soft, but he could not deny her request. He was afraid that he might not be able to deny her anything... 

Bog turned to look at her. His eyes were sad, not just simple sadness, she could see, but something deeper, centuries of pain in his eyes. Marianne let his hand go, dragging her fingers gently across his palm, then smiled. “I'll go shower okay? Something to eat sounds good.” 

Bog smiled softly and nodded. He walked over to the motel room door, glancing over his shoulder at her for a moment before he slipped outside. 

* 

Marianne turned the shower on, stepping inside the small tub. She sighed, letting the hot water run over her face and down her body. What on earth was she doing?! Falling for Bog? A demon, a demon who she had sold her soul to for another year of life. She rubbed her face with her hands hard, but she couldn't deny that she was feeling something for him. 

No, just name it for what it is Marianne! She scolded herself. “You are in love with him.” She said it out loud and then smiled. “You have some of the worst taste in men,” she muttered, again out loud. Except, she thought, he wasn't bad. Hell, he had shown himself to be thoughtful, tender, fair-minded...sweet. He could play a fucking violin and he sang!! 

Marianne sighed, leaning her forehead against the shower wall letting out a long sigh. Now what was she going to do? 

* 

Bog rubbed the back of his neck as he walked out of the motel room. This was the first time in centuries he didn't know what was happening or what he was going to do. He was in love with her. He couldn't keep lying to himself. Bog glanced around the motel parking lot. It was still fairly early and there was no one around, so with a flick of his wrist he summoned a cigarette. He had walked over to a small diner not quite half a mile away to get the coffee, now he was walking over to pick up some breakfast. 

He was lost in thought so he didn't realize Pyka was beside him until she spoke. 

“What's got your panties in a twist Bog?” Pyka smiled keeping up with Bog's long-legged pace despite her shorter stature. 

“Nothing, what are you doing here?” Bog muttered. 

“Just letting you know that I sorta reported in to Jezebel!!” Pyka grinned. 

“Lovely,” Bog grumbled as he walked. 

Pyka stuck her bottom lip out. “Hey, I just came to tell you.” 

Bog stopped, turning to look down at her. Pyka opened her mouth to say something, but then her mouth simply fell open in shock. “Oh...it's gotten worse hasn't it?” 

Bog frowned. “Worse?” 

“Nevermind. Jezebel wants to find out where you are going so she can be there.” Pyka materialized her own cigarette. 

Bog sighed and continued walking. “I'm not telling you where we're headed.” 

Pyka smiled taking a drag on her cigarette. “I know. I just wanted to let you know what I told her. So, you going to tell your human you love her yet?” 

Bog snarled. “She is not 'my' human and no—I'm not going to tell her.” Then Bog cursed under his breath when Pyka started giggling. 

“You're so cute. You should just tell her.” 

“No.” Bog stopped outside the diner. “Now go away.” 

Pyka giggled. “Oh come on, tell her! What's the worst that can happen?!” 

Bog's expression was unreadable, but Pyka had a pretty good idea what he was thinking anyway. “You know Bog...a human falling in love with a demon isn't unheard of.” 

Bog sighed. “Those stories never end well and they are only stories. Besides, she could never be in love with me. Now Pyka, go.” 

Pyka shrugged and disappeared. 

* 

Marianne had just stepped out of the shower, a towel around her hair, another round her body. She was searching through her suitcase for an outfit when a voice suddenly said. 

“Hey human. We need to talk.” 

Marianne squeaked turning to see a small, white haired woman standing there smiling at her. 

The petite woman waved happily. “Hi!” 

Marianne screamed.


	11. Looked the Devil in the Eye

Marianne started to scream again as the tiny woman tossed her hand out toward Marianne as if she were throwing something. Suddenly, Marianne's head jerked back as though she had been hit and her voice was gone. Not a sound came from her lips. She grabbed for her throat, but the woman laughed. 

“Don't worry, it's only temporary, just so you would stop making that awful noise! I just want to talk.” The white haired woman jumped onto the bed with Marianne's suitcase, crossing her legs and smiling. Marianne pushed herself up against the wall putting as much space between her and the strange woman as she could and stared as the young woman started to pick through Marianne's suitcase. 

To look at her, the woman before Marianne was diminutive with long white hair and a face that would make someone immediately think pixie. Even her clothing screamed “Pixie.” She wore a pair of white leggings covered in pink flowers along with a white oversized t-shirt emblazoned with a pink “Hello Kitty” on it while on her feet were a pair of white keds...not at all the attire of a demon (which, by her sudden appearance Marianne was guessing was what she was). Like Bog, she was smoking a cigarette, which was currently hanging from the side of her mouth as she sorted through Marianne's things. 

“Ah, here we go—this will get that old heart of Bog's pumping!” The little woman tossed out a pair of shorts, cut-off denim shorts. Then she pulled out a boho-stype crop-top with long bell sleeves, while it had a deep-V surplice front. The top cut off at Marianne's mid-section. The shirt had a swirling white and purple pattern that complimented Marianne's skin tone perfectly and with her short hair the top was flattering. The young woman set out the clothing, then turned to face Marianne with a smile. 

“I'm Pyka by the way.” 

Marianne glared now...the initial shock passed. She mouthed something which had Pyka's eyebrows raising and her eyes dancing. “Such language!” 

With a simple flick of her fingers, as if she were flicking water at her, Marianne's voice suddenly came back. 

“Who the fuck are you?!” Marianne growled. 

“I told you, the name is Pyka and I am going to help you and Bog.” Pyka grinned as she blew out a smoke ring. 

“Help? What are you talking about?” Marianne stumbled back until she found a chair and sat down. Pyka grinned at her. 

“I am going to help you mess with Jezebel.” 

“What?” Marianne froze and stared. Pyka picked up the clothing she had picked out for Marianne and tossed them at her. “You really should get dressed before he comes back...or not...that would certainly skip a lot of unneeded steps.” Pyka giggled and her eyes danced with amusement. 

“Who are you?” Marianne stood with the clothing gathered to her toweled chest. 

Pyka jumped up. “I'm your fairy godmother....or god-demon as the case may be.” She giggled brightly. “Anyway...I'm going to help you bag your demon.” 

Marianne shook her head. “I...I don't understand any of this.” 

Pyke sighed, took a long pull on her cigarette, and held the smoke in her lungs. Marianne noticed then that the occasional ash would fall from the cigarette, but it would simply fade away before it hit the carpet. Marianne glanced from the ashes (or lack of) back to Pyka. 

Pyka looked slightly annoyed as if holding the smoke in her lungs was helping her to think. Pyka held it long enough that Marianne was beginning to think that demons didn't breathe when she finally blew out a line of smoke. 

“You love him. He loves you,” Pyka said simply. “Jezebel wants him because he doesn't want her. When she finds out he loves you, she is going to kill you or at least try; or she will kill him. I don't think she will care as long as one of you is destroyed by what she does.” 

Marianne blinked, the words coming at her so quickly it was almost like being shot. 

“What? He...he loves me?” Marianne's mouth fell open. Then she shook her head. “Jezebel will try and kill one of us?” 

Pyka waved a hand in dismissal. “Yes, yes, we've established that. You like him, he likes you...Lala... write me a romance. Anyway, Jezebel is a royal bitch and she is going to try to get you to break your deal with Bog or worse...make another deal with her, anything she can do to make either one of you miserable. She really, really hates not getting her way. I swear she was a demon before she became a demon. No, I take that back. She is the worst demon I know...more demony demon...anyway...” 

Pyka took a breath before she continued. “Before she can do anything to either one of you, the two of you need to be in real, honest-to-goodness love. Right now you're in a lusty-love part...need to push that along.” 

Pyka smiled as she blew herself a halo of smoke and grinned like a cat. 

Marianne frowned. “But Bog said...I have that iron needle...” Marianne glanced around the room helplessly as she realized she wasn't sure where she had left the thing. 

Pyka stuck her tongue out. “You know that's great to annoy Jez and to stop her from like hitting you in the face, or stabbing you, but that woman likes to “really” hurt people so...” 

“So it doesn't really do anything?” Marianne frowned. 

“No, no it does, it goes back to when Jezebel was alive. She was a witch...pretty famous one. Anyway...whoever wears her iron needle that she created during her life, Jez can't lay a finger on...I don't have time to go into the reason...just go with it. So basically what Bog did was to protect you from physical harm. But you know...there are other ways to hurt someone....like through someone they care about.” 

Pyka stared hard at Marianne and was rewarded by Marianne's expression turning worried. 

“Bog! She could hurt Bog?” Marianne asked as her eyes turned back to Pyka. 

Pyka shrugged. “She could. Demons killing demons...it's not unheard of. We all suspect it isn't against policy since any of us who have been around a while have seen it happen. Wherever or whoever our boss is has never stepped in to stop it. Sooo...” The white-haired demon left the thought hanging. “Anyway, yes. Jezebel is enough of a bitch that she would lash out at Bog even though she is after him.” 

“Why is she so obsessed with him?” Marianne frowned. 

“Oh, that's simple. Jezebel gets what Jezebel wants and when she doesn't, Jezebel makes everyone pay. No deeper reason than she is a world-class bitch with an attitude and the means to back it up. Bog has been shunning her for ages and she has been content to let it go because she had time and there was nothing and nobody in her way....until you.” 

Marianne blushed, which caused Pyka to laugh. “Geez, you two are so sappy it's enough to make even me sick. Anyway, Bog doesn't trust me, but I'm serious when I say I want to help.” 

“Why doesn't Bog trust you?”Marianne asked with suspicion. 

“Because I work for Jezebel.” Pyka grinned. 

“What?” Marianne nearly dropped her clothing she had pressed against her chest. 

“Hey, hey not willingly, it's part of my contract. Believe me. I hate her. A lot.” Pyka frowned and her cheery face fell slightly. 

“ANYWAY....look,” she said with a serious expression. “I want to help you two get together and before you ask why...why not? It will piss Jezebel off. Now, will you two getting together do anything about...well...anything? No idea, but why not! I have a soft spot where it comes to love. AND since Bog won't take my help, I thought you might.” Pyka smiled broadly showing off perfect teeth, her cigarette held between them. 

“I don't know...can I think about it?” Marianne asked with a frown. 

Pyka jumped to her feet looking toward the door of the motel room. “Sure, but just don't take too long. I mean...I will keep Jez off your back for a while, but if you guys don't want my help then I'm going to have to go back to helping Jez.” 

“But why?” Marianne asked, but that was the moment Pyka disappeared and Bog came in carrying a bag. He turned to close the door. 

“I brought breakfa....” He stopped in the middle of his sentence when he turned saw Marianne standing there in only a small towel, her clothes pressed to her chest. His blue eyes seemed to move by themselves taking in her legs, the fact that the towel just barely covered her...the tops of her breasts...Bog immediately turned bright red and turned away. “SORRY!!!” 

Marianne's eyes widened just before she turned and ran for the bathroom with a loud squeak. 

* 

Marianne was driving this time with Bog sitting next to her with one leg crossed and his ankle resting against his knee. Marianne licked her lips as she turned to look at him. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a black pair of lace up, square toed black boots with a buckle across the ankle and another across the arch, paired with a navy blue button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. All of it seemed to come together in a way that made Marianne squirm. He had a cigarette between his lips, from which he occasionally blew out a stream of smoke. His window was open to let in a cool breeze as they drove along the highway. He tapped his long fingers against the door, clearly in time to some music only he could hear since they didn't have the radio on. 

Marianne kept stealing glances at him as she thought about what Pyka had said. She didn't mention her visitor to Bog, at least not yet. She wasn't sure why, but it just didn't seem time yet. Marianne gnawed her bottom lip thinking about Bog. Was she in love with him? She had thought she was in love before with Roland, but this felt vastly different. Additionally, Bog wasn't even human...but...She smiled softly as she glanced at his profile again. She felt something deep; it was a strange burn in her chest that only happened now when she looked at him...thought about him... 

Marianne swallowed, licked her dry lips and looked sideways at Bog again. He was clearly listening to a song in his head. 

“It's rude not to share. Share with the class now,” Marianne said after a bit and grinned as she did so. 

Bog frowned, clearly confused. “What?” 

“Whatever song you are listening to in your head...it's rude not to share.” Marianne grinned. “Why don't you sing to me?” 

He blushed and looked away from her as he flicked his cigarette out the window where it disappeared in a puff of smoke.. “I...maybe...You've heard me sing before—I ain't that good Marianne.” 

Marianne frowned as she turned her attention back to the road. “Please? Pretty please? For me?” 

Bog sighed as he stared out the window, but within moments he started to pat his hand against his thigh, slapping out a beat that his leg picked up and started to tap against the floor of the vehicle with the heel of his boot. After a moment of this, Bog started to sing. 

* 

“The devil's going to make me a free man 

The devil's going to set me free 

Oh, the devil's going to make me a free man 

The devil's going to set me free 

I've been down, deep Texas Mississippi state 

Hoping things might go my way 

For every hard earned dollar I make 

There stands a white man just to take it away 

Some might say I talk loud, see if I care 

Unlike them, don't walk away from my fear 

I've busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye 

I hope he's going to break these chains, oh yeah 

* 

Marianne swallowed as she listened to the emotional pull of Bog's voice on those words. His eyes were closed as he sang; the only music to his voice were the tapping of his boot and the rhythm of his thumb against his denim covered thigh. There was something painful in the words the way that Bog sang them. He purposefully avoided looking at Marianne, not trusting himself. 

….Another hard day, no water, no rest 

I saw my chance, so I got him at last 

I took his six shooter, put two in his chest 

He'll never say a word no more 

Oh, he'll never say a word no more 

The devil got him good for sure 

Ain't got no place to call a home 

Only chains and broken bones 

Ain't got no place to call a home 

So come on Lord, won't you take me now? 

Ain't got no place to call a home 

Only chains and broken bones 

Ain't got no place to call a home 

So come on Lord, what you waiting for? 

* 

Bog finished the song and let the words settle on the silence between them. After a few minutes of driving in silence, Marianne asked quietly, “What's that song about?” 

Bog frowned as he kept his gaze ahead on the road. “The writer wrote the song from a slave's perspective...How I see it?” Bog glanced sideways at Marianne, the sunlight catching the blue of his eyes and making them shine unnaturally. 

“I believe the song is about someone trapped, lost, with nowhere to go...worked to the bone, their freedom gone, supposedly broken, where your only salvation is to murder your devil and hope that God forgives you. That he comes to take you away, but if not...the devil is the one that will set you free.” 

Marianne was quiet for a few moments before she inquired softly, “Is that how you feel?” 

Bog smirked, conjuring a cigarette from the air. “I wasn't a good man when I was alive, but I tried to be an honest man. I made my prison. I walked into it willingly. Do I think God will set me free while I struggle to do good while being evil? No. I don't believe there is salvation for me.” 

He looked out the side window, sucking in deeply from another conjured cigarette before blowing a trail of smoke. “But I don't care anymore to save myself. I just want to know I've saved someone else. I try—but sometimes it's so hard.” The last words he said softly, the pain clear in his voice. Bog turned to look at her. “I want to save you Marianne. I”m sorry. I...I should have let you die. It would be better than...” Bog swallowed and turned away from her, his pain clearly etched into his features. 

Marianne swallowed. Her eyes stung with tears that she struggled not to shed. 

“Bog...” She reached out to lay her hand on his thigh. Bog looked down at her hand. For a moment he thought about throwing it back at her...telling her not to touch him, that he...it would be better...she shouldn't care about him. But I'm weak, he thought to himself. So weak. Instead he laid his hand over hers and squeezed. He burned for her...let it burn...he would burn for her, for all eternity if it meant she could be free of him and the pain he brought...the evil that he was...he would burn willingly. 

There was a flash of movement in front of the car. Marianne screamed in surprise jerking her hand back, grabbing for the wheel as their vehicle weaved dangerously out of control. She struggled to pull the wheel to the left, desperately trying to turn the car away, but they were coming up too fast on a truck carrying several long metal pipes, far too fast. 

She heard Bog yell something, but she could understand him, her focus on the horror before her, then suddenly their vehicle slammed into the back of the truck. The world seemed to slow down. Marianne saw one of the pipes, long, shining brightly as the afternoon sun glimmered off the metal, shattering their windshield. The world in front of her suddenly burst into a million tiny crystal shards of glasses, flying through the air in front of her and Bog. 

She turned her head toward Bog. She saw his body flung forward, the seat belt jerking his body back just as the metal pipe exploded through the glass, blasting tiny bits through the air creating an almost magical quality to the air as the sunlight danced on the tiny bits of glass. The metal rod was not slowed by the windshield, but continued and hit Bog, slamming into his chest forcing him back against the seat with an explosion of blood. She only barely registered the feel of wet droplets of blood hitting her face. The long metal hit Bog and kept going, blasting out his back and through the seat. Bog's body jerked back then forward, his head slamming against the pipe in his chest. Like a terrible snapshot, she saw his head flung back, his eyes dead, staring at nothing, his mouth open as a trail of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. Everything was in hyper detail, the color draining from his eyes, the bright red of his blood, the sparkle of the glass... 

...and then nothing. 

* 

Jezebel cursed under her breath going so far as to stamp her foot. Pyka stood calmly beside her. The two women were standing off the side of the highway watching the crash. Pyka had done her best to redirect Jezebel. But she had to feed Jez something so she had told her where they were on the highway...it wasn't much, but apparently it had been enough. The only thing that Pyka was able to do (without the bloodthirsty Jezebel realizing...too wrapped up in what she was doing to notice the tiny movements of Pyka's fingers, pushing the truck out of the way so that the pipe didn't hit Marianne, though hitting Bog had not been Pyka's plan at all.) Jezebel cursed for what seemed like a very long time and very colorfully. 

“I can't believe it!! It missed that human!!” Jezebel turned with a vicious snarl and stomped off, her hands knotted into fists at her side just as she disappear while she stalked away. Pyka grinned as her eyes followed the angry demon. Good, she thought. But Bog...Pyka frowned as she looked back to the accident. Hopefully Marianne wasn't hurt badly. 

* 

Marianne woke to the soft sound of a woman's voice and blessed darkness. She felt as if she were floating in nothingness, nothing to hurt her, to tell her that what she had seen had really happened. She could pretend in the darkness that Bog was alive. That...nothing...had...happened. 

“Wake up Marianne. Come on, open your eyes.” The sweet female voice insisted. 

Marianne frowned. She didn't want to open her eyes. If she did, she would have to face the fact that Bog was dead. She had killed him. The sight of the pipe skewering him...the blood...his head falling back against the seat, his eyes lifeless, the blood running from his mouth and nose....that thing sticking out of his chest. Her throat burned and her eyes felt as if sandpaper was behind them as she struggled with the tears, but the tears started to run down her cheeks, rolling from under her closed eyes. She started to feel herself in the darkness as the pain of losing Bog burned into reality. “I can't, I don't...Bog...” 

The female voice giggled. It was pleasant, almost sweet, but Marianne wanted it to stop giggling. Bog was dead!!! How could she laugh?? Who was she that she could laugh about Bog, but the voice continued. “Wake up Marianne. Your demon is fine...open your eyes, you're scaring him. He needs you.” 

Marianne's bottom lip trembled and the tears burned as they leaked from the corner of her eyes. “I can't,” she whispered without her voice. She felt the sob choking her words, blocking her throat and burning a hole of misery in her chest. “I can't.” 

She wanted to believe he was all right...she loved him. “Oh God, if you are there and you can hear prayers...” she thought as loudly as she could. “Please let him be all right. I love him. I love him.” 

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke out loud. “Bog...Bog...” 

The next voice she heard was his...the female voice was gone and with her the darkness that Marianne had been floating in melted away. Her body suddenly felt heavy. She felt the texture of a blanket underneath her and over her and her body started to ache everywhere. 

“Marianne? Marianne, I'm here! Please, please open your eyes. Oh God, please...I know, but please...she deserves...” 

She frowned. It was Bog's voice, she could hear the pain in his words, the thickening of his accent as panic took over. Then she felt his hands on her, picking up her hand, touching her face gently. Her eyes opened slowly as if coming up from deep underwater. Her eyes fluttered and opened to see Bog looking down at her, a dim yellow light highlighted half of his face, but she could clearly see his eyes. His blue eyes were filled with pain, so much pain, but then he was smiling down at her. She saw the crookedness of his teeth, the perfect shape of his lips, the way the blue of his eyes pulled her in...the sharp angles of his face, then he chuckled softly, but what surprised her were the tears. 

Tears started to freely fall down his cheeks. 

“Marianne...You scared me,” he said softly. His arms had gone around her while he spoke and he pulled her against his chest holding her tight. “Don't scare me like that!” 

“Bog?” Marianne struggled to speak. Bog pulled back to gaze down at her. His smile, she thought clearly, was beautiful. Marianne reached up with one hand, caressing his cheek. Bog didn't pull away as her fingers traced his sharp features then along his equally sharp jaw and chin. 

“Oh Bog...” she whispered, her voice catching. “I thought I saw you die.” 

He grinned. “Demon...remember? I died a long time ago.” 

“Not to me you didn't.” Marianne said on a sob before she pulled his mouth down to hers, wrapping her arms desperately around his neck, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song choice was suggested by Islenthatur!! Thank you again!!


	12. Angel Eyes

Bog's mind raced, though he didn't react at first. 

He went still at first, his eyes wide, the blue burning with an internal fire, but the feel of her lips were soft and her arms around his neck were warm. This moment, her lips against his had been something Bog had dreamed about...secret dreams he wouldn't admit even to himself, but now...He was weak and his mind scolded him telling him, “Reject her kiss, pull away, put distance between you and her both now and do it quickly.” A voice in his head exclaimed, “You idiot! You fool!” 

But the fool he was and he didn't move. Instead his mouth opened against hers as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against his body. Immediately Marianne's tongue slipped between his lips, warm and alive. She pressed herself against him, her mouth needy. 

Bog moaned. Marianne had never heard a sound so filled with longing before; she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her hands in his hair, grabbing fists full of his dark hair. 

One of his long fingered hands rose to cradle the back of her head. His mouth caressed her own, his tongue brushing against hers, feeling the warmth of her against him. His teeth brushed her tongue and she felt the fangs gradually grow as his passion eagerly rose to the surface. Marianne tugged him down to her, pulling him down as she leaned back against the bed. Bog went willingly deeper into her embrace. She wrapped a leg around him, trying desperately to keep him against her. He felt warm, warmer than natural, but none the less pleasing for it. 

She ran her hands down from his shoulders feeling the soft almost silky feel of the fabric of his shirt, her hands traveling down his lean muscled arms. She could feel them under the texture of his clothing. She dared to explore further as her hands shifted to feel his sides and yank, pulling his shirt up, her hands eagerly finding the flesh underneath. Bog's mouth fervently moved from her soft lips to taste the skin at her throat, his tongue lapping across the surface of her silken flesh, tasting the salt on her skin, the rich flavor of her humanness, the heat and pulse of her body, the smell of her, the softness. His ancient body reacted, feelings that he had long thought gone and dead, returned with a speed that he would never have guessed possible. 

Then, just as Marianne moaned softly, pressing her body more firmly against his own, her fingers digging into his skin, Bog came back to his senses and pushed her away, stumbling back from the bed where Marianne was lying. His back slammed hard against the wall. 

“Bog?” Marianne's voice cracked. She sat up with a look at him in confusion. 

His voice was frantic, the accent coming out heavy and strong as his fear took over. 

“I—I...you can't...Marianne. Not me...please, not me! I'm begging you!! NOT ME!!” 

Bog stood there pressed against the wall, his hair a mess from her fingers running through it, dark locks falling across his face, making him look scared and vulnerable. His dress shirt was untucked and rumpled, his usual cool and ordered look in complete disarray. Even his usually calm blue eyes were wild with what looked to Marianne like fear. 

Marianne rose to her knees on the bed. “Bog...I want you. I—I love you! When I saw you...saw you die...I...” 

Bog shook his head viciously as if he were trying to knock her words from his mind. 

“Not me!! You can't love me!! No one can love me!! It isn't possible!! I'm...” He stumbled losing the trail of his thoughts when Marianne stood and stepped over to stand in front of him. Her brown eyes pierced him, stabbing him through his heart and pinned him to the wall like a insect. He stared down at her, his expression torn between frantic denial and desperate want...need to have her love for him be real because he knew, deep in his blackened heart, his devil possessed soul, that he loved her. 

“Bog, you can't tell me who to love. Love—it doesn't work that way.” She reached out and laid her hands gently on his shoulders as if he were a scared animal that would bolt at any moment. 

Bog looked away, turning his head as his voice cracked with emotion. 

“Not me...no one can love me...ever...” 

But Marianne reached up and very gently, with just the tips of her fingers, she turned his face to look at her. Bog was too weak to struggle, letting her redirect his gaze to her. 

“Do you love me?” Marianne asked bluntly. 

Bog stared at her. Love? Love...this feeling was so much more than just...love. 

Tears started to run down unhindered from his blue eyes. “I love you. Marianne, I think I loved you from the moment I saw you.” 

She smiled gently her thumb caressing his chin. “Let me love you Bog.” 

Bog's lips trembled. “No Marianne. Please...no. You can't...you simply can't...” 

She grinned then as a single tear ran down her cheek. “Oh I can and I do. Haven't you learned yet, you can't tell me what to do Bog? I want this—I want you.” 

She ran the back of her fingers along his jaw before she gently cupped his cheek and directed his mouth down to hers again. Bog's lips touched hers and he groaned. Marianne gently touched his mouth, her teeth brushing along his tongue while her thumb caressed his cheek. Bog's hands reached for her and his arms wrapped around her, a desperate man—demon—having found salvation in the arms of an angel. He pulled her against him and caved in to his wants and desires. Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck as she deepened the kiss. Following his impulse, Bog lifted her up. Marianne wrapped her legs around his waist letting Bog carry her back to the bed. 

Marianne dropped her hands, her fingers working frantically at the buttons of Bog's shirt, until she growled in frustration and tore the cloth back, the buttons popping off the shirt. She yanked the shirt down his shoulders, and then her hands moved desperately over his chest. 

Bog on the other hand moved more slowly, tenderly. He laid her back against the small bed, his hand at her waist, his thumb stroking gently over her skin as if he needed to memorize every detail of her...the texture of her skin, the glow of her eyes...the taste of her lips. 

Marianne ran her hands over his chest and down lower to caress his stomach, enjoying the way he twitched when she touched him. She drew her fingertips along his hips, sliding her fingers under the band of his slacks feeling the flat surface between his stomach and groin. She circled the band and found the button and zipper. She worked quickly to unfasten them, desperate to touch him and growled in frustration yet again when she encountered another layer of clothing thwarting her attempts to touch all of him. Bog grunted when he felt the fleeting caress of her fingers against him. Bog reached down, grabbing her arms, yanking them over her head and pinning her there beneath him. 

“Tell me again you want this Marianne.” Bog gave her a pleading look, his lips slightly swollen from her constant attack. 

“Bog...I want you. I want this...I will say it as many times as you need to hear it. You. I choose you. I love you.” Marianne gazed steadily up at him. She could see the demonic glow behind this blue eyes for a brief moment, then something shifted, though she couldn't be sure what. Did it have to do with the contract between them or something else? Before she could think on it further Bog's mouth was on hers again, his hands dragging down her arms while he kissed her. Marianne groaned and rolled her body against his, then wrapped her legs around his waist again. They pressed against each other, their bodies curved against each other. Marianne could feel how warm his body was, the heat radiating through his clothing. 

Bog's hands rolled down over her breasts, squeezing gently, which made Marianne groan, arching her back into his touch. 

“Oh Bog...” 

He reached up to grab the sides of her blouse. He tugged the fabric down over the top of her breasts. She lifted her arms up out of her top then helped him lift the blouse up and off. Bog growled taking in the sight of her in just her bra. Marianne grinned when he growled; it was the most gorgeous, sexy sound she had ever heard. He began to nibble his way along her collar, his fingers stroking along the edge of her bra teasingly. Her skin burned where his fingers stroked her skin sending rivers of heated pleasure through her body. She moaned softly as his lips moved to her ear. 

“Tell me again you want me Marianne. Please...tell me again.” 

Marianne stroked his back and he arched into her touch, her fingers dancing up to caress the back of his neck then down along his spine once more, a deep sound almost like a purr vibrating in his chest. Marianne murmured, her voice caressing against his ear as she cradled his head to her neck, 

“I want you Bog. I want you with my entire being. I love you.” 

A groan escaped Bog's lips upon hearing her words. His tongue flicked out to lick her ear. He sat back slightly to tug his shirt off his arms and tossed it away. Marianne pressed her teeth into her bottom lip as she gazed at him. He was...Then she smiled as she spoke her thought, “You're beautiful.” 

Bog dropped down, his hands on either side of her head. His gaze was magnetic. His eyes roamed over her face as if he was memorizing every detail of her. He leaned down to brush his lips against hers, his breath warm as he whispered. 

* 

“I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea, 

Borne up by each wave as it passes, 

drawn down by each wave that recedes; 

I would empty my soul as the dreams 

that have gathered in me, 

I would beat with your heart as it beats, 

I would follow your soul as it leads.” 

* 

He brushed his nose against hers, his lips tender, just barely touching her lips, but his breath rolled over hers mixing with her breath, the words flowing through her, His voice spoke the words like a song that settled into her very soul. She reached up to cradle his head between her hands, her eyes partly closed. “Bog...” 

They kissed tenderly, then harder, the burning passion rising to a full-fledged blaze. Marianne shoved at his pants trying to finish undressing him, but simultaneously reluctant to stop kissing him. Bog's long fingers worked desperately at her shorts, yanking them open. He growled and jerked one of his hands, a motion that had his fingers forming into grey claws that tore the shorts from her body. Marianne gasped in surprise. The gesture turned her on more than she could have imagined. Bog then shifted his position, helping her to push away his slacks. She was anxious to see him naked, to feel his skin against hers. Bog stood, finished with the slacks, taking the pants and underwear off in one motion. She finally was able to see him and he took her breath away. Lean muscles, a scattering of dark hair across his chest, a trail of dark hair that started under his navel and ran down to his groin...long, lean legs. For a moment, she was speechless as she gazed at him. And his erection was...She lifted her eyebrows. He was...everything she could possibly want. For a moment Bog seemed actually shy. He stood there fully exposed to her, unmoving. He didn't react again until Marianne started unhooking her bra. “Let me,” Bog growled as if he were having trouble with his voice. Maybe it was the fact that his fangs had extended or appeared; she had no idea how it worked, but she didn't contemplate it long. Bog dragged her bra down her arms, staring at her breasts for a moment as if he had never seen breasts before. The look of pure wanton desire in his gaze caused Marianne's whole body to flare with desire, heat rushing to her groin and causing her body to ache. She needed him to touch her. 

“Marianne...” Her name on his tongue made goosebumps spread across her skin. She reached for him, her grasp pleading. Bog moved willingly into her arms. Their lips met again as Bog wrapped an arm around her to pull her close to him. He held her body against his while his other hand stroked down her side, stopping at her panties. She felt the rough, sharp texture of a claw against her skin then heard and felt the rip of her panties. Bog tore them gently away from her skin with a barely suppressed growl. 

Bog's mouth moved over her neck as he brushed his nose against her skin and licked his way down the curve of her throat. Marianne's hands slid along his back, brushing her fingertips over his spine which earned her another growl that vibrated against her skin. He laid her back and pressed his forehead against hers. They stared into each other's eyes. Marianne smiled, her wicked fingers tickling lightly up Bog's spine once more. He grinned with a purring growl on his lips, his hips pressed between her legs. Marianne had never felt anything so wickedly wonderful. He was hard, so hard, and the heat of his body...she ached badly to have him inside her. 

Bog traced the side of her body, marveling at the way her skin felt, the warm silk of her skin; she was so soft he could melt against her. He ran his hand down to her hip, then up her thigh bringing her leg up to hook around his waist; the clawed tips of that hand stroked up the back of her thigh when he lifted her leg, pressing his erection more firmly against her dampness, making the ache in her body that much more intense. 

Marianne moaned softly. “Bog...uh...Bog...” 

He hissed against her skin. “Marianne...” 

Bog's mouth teased her lips. He ran his long tongue over her ear, nipping at the lobe before his mouth traveled down her neck, skimming along the delicate surface of her skin. His hot breath caressed her skin, teased slowly until he was hovering at her breast. 

Marianne gasped at the feel of his lips against her breast when Bog pressed a tender kiss to the sensitive flesh. His long tongue snaked out to curl over her nipple causing her body to jerk in response. 

“Uhh...Bog!” Marianne arched under him. 

She could feel the smile on his lips. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking back and forth before he sucked again. Marianne tossed her head from side to side slowly, the warm tickling pleasure radiated out from where he sucked on her breast until it spread and engulfed her. He gently scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin, made her jerk in delight and gasp again. She felt the tips of his fangs against her flesh as he continued to tease them along her skin. He laid one hand along her ribs, while his other hand cradled the top of her head, holding her (she couldn't see them, but she could feel his claws against her skin and it was erotic to feel those dangerous tips on her flesh) while his tongue lapped along her nipple, his groin pressing pleasurably against hers, the ache becoming unbearable. 

Bog transferred his attentions to her other breast, sucking and licking, a clawed thumb stroking back and forth across her silken skin. Marianne became frantic with need. He shifted his body to the side, bringing his thigh up between her legs. Marianne almost immediately began rubbing against him leg, her need becoming an overpowering drive. She groaned, her hips thrusting against his thigh while his mouth continued his exploration of her breasts, the tip of his tongue circling her nipples, then blowing his warm breath against the dampened skin. She gasped, her eyes flying open for a moment. 

“BOG!” She arched her back when she climaxed, dragging her fingers along his shoulders, and her heels against his back, her toes pointing with the intensity of her climax.. Her cry made Bog shiver with pleasure. 

“Oh Bog, please...please I need you,” she groaned, begged...she was fairly sure if he didn't take her soon she would burn up, bursting into flame. Bog shifted his position more firmly between her legs. He quickly cradled her neck and head with both hands and lifted her head from the pillow to look her in the eye. “Tell me again you want me, that you need me Marianne.” He sounded desperate to her, needed to hear her say those words again. 

“I want you! I need you!! Oh please Bog!” Marianne reached for him, an oasis in the desert that was her need. 

“I want you Marianne...I need you...” Bog whispered as he pressed his forehead against hers. His accent thickened and for a moment Marianne could see him as the man he had once been, alive, on the highlands. When Bog spoke, the image became sharper. 

“I've made a vow, to no one but you 

I pledge my love to forever be true...” 

* 

He brushed his lips against hers closing his eyes and continued to speak. 

* 

“Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. 

I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. 

I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done. 

You cannot possess me for I belong to myself 

But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give 

You cannon command me, for I am a free person 

But I shall serve you in those ways you require 

and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand....” 

* 

Marianne stared back into Bog's incredible blue eyes and became lost in the depths of eternal blue skies. Bog whispered. “I make this vow to you.” 

She could feel him, pressing against her, waiting... 

“Bog...I accept your vow.” She brushed her fingers over his face, staring into his eyes as she said it. Something...something snapped into place between them. She had no idea what it was; only that she felt it and she saw the clear surprise in Bog's eyes, knew he felt it as well. 

“Marianne?” Bog looked confused, but she held his face in her hands. “Make love to me Bog.” 

He brushed his nose against hers. “Always and forever,” he whispered letting go of her face to reach down between them. Marianne shuddered as his every touch was electric. 

She shuddered as he adjusted, feeling the head of him pressing against her. Then slowly, he eased himself inside her. 

Marianne moaned when he entered her, the ripples of pleasure were intense and thought shattering. He seemed to fill her completely with himself, the hard thickness pulsed inside her and she gasped. “Oh Bog, I love you!” 

Bog brushed her lips with his and hissed, pressing deep inside her. “I love you, my Marianne.” 

Marianne wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs, her hands resting on his shoulders, stroking up and down his arms while Bog rolled his hips, moving in and almost out of her in a slow steady motion. Marianne had never felt like this; not just the emotions, the depth of her love for him, but it was more...the way he felt inside her, the way their bodies fit together. They wrapped themselves around each other, moving slowly together. Bog kissed her passionately, his hips rolling in a wave, in and out, his tongue in her mouth playing with her tongue. Marianne whimpered, her hands going to his head, fingers in his hair pressing her kiss harder to his mouth. 

When she drew closer to her orgasm, she threw her head back for a moment, sucking in breath. “Bog, Bog, Bog...” 

The intensity of her body tightening around him had her bringing her head back up to bury her face against his neck, wrapping her arms around him, holding on, her anchor. She came with a moan of his name. “Bog...oh Bog.” The orgasm rolled over her in a wave that started low, then became larger, a tide of pleasure coming in and washing over her entire being. 

Bog jerked and thrust hard when she came. Her body pulled him into her. 

Bog hissed in delight, “Marianne.” 

With another thrust he buried himself as deeply as possible into her when he climaxed. Marianne shuddered. She could feel his release and the pleasure of it vibrated through her. He dropped his head against her neck and she felt him sob. 

“Bog?” Marianne whispered stroking his neck. “Bog are you all right?” 

He wrapped himself around her holding her so tightly that for a moment she couldn't breathe. But what shocked her was that he was crying. 

“Marianne...I never...” He took a breath and began again. “I love you. I love you.” He shook slightly. 

Marianne wrapped her legs and arms tighter around him and whispered. “I love you Bog. I love you.” 

* 

Marianne smiled contentedly. Bog leaned down and sat on the bed beside her. He was dressed again having gone out and returned with two fast food bags of burgers and fries, a drink tray that held two sodas. He smiled as he shifted position and kicked his shoes off so that he could put his feet on the bed. Marianne sat up and positioned herself under his arm, pulling the sheet with her since she was still naked. 

“I'm starved!” she said, the smell of the food making her stomach growl loudly. 

Bog chuckled. “Well I got you a deluxe cheeseburger and a large fry along with something they called a lava cake? OH and a large cola, not diet.” 

Marianne groaned. “I've died and gone to heaven.” 

Bog shook his head at her words with a toothy grin, but said nothing as he handed over the food. She sat up a little straighter tucking the sheet under her arms to hold it up which Bog found adorable...especially considering how they had been naked together just minutes earlier. She started to pulled things out of the bags to lay them across her lap. She handed Bog his own burger and snuggled in against him before she started to eat. Bog felt a little strange having her snuggled against him. Not that he didn't love it, he did, but he hadn't been close to anyone in ages...decades...longer. Yet here he was and for a moment the pain in his heart flared feeling like a spike in his chest. He should have resisted harder. He was scared for her—scared and excited. She loved him! Him. Not because of what he could give her, but because of himself. She had accepted his vow and something had happened, they had both felt it even if he didn't understand what exactly had happened. But now the danger to her soul was...he frowned as a cloud of darkness started to fall over him. 

He was distracted from his brooding when Marianne spoke. 

She took a huge bite of her burger. 

“So what happens now?” she asked around her mouthful of burger looking up at him, her chin against his chest while she chewed, her brown eyes dancing with happiness. 

Bog looked down at her, his heart swelling with emotion. He swallowed it back before he answered. 

“No idea,” Bog said quietly. “I...I haven't changed. I'm still a demon, but...did you feel it, the tug between us? And I can feel something has shifted with the contract...but I have no idea what.” 

Marianne nodded. “I did. Like something was snapping into place.” 

Bog nodded in agreement as he took a bite of his food. Marianne chewed on a fry thoughtfully. “What happened after the accident? I don't remember anything except watching you die and...and there was a voice...” 

“A voice?” Bog turned to give her an inquisitive look as she reached over and put a fry into his mouth. 

“Hmm...a female voice. She kept telling me that I needed to wake up, that I was scaring you.” Marianne smiled at him. 

Bog frowned as he chewed. He swallowed before he answered. “You were scaring me.” 

They were both quiet for a long while. Bog murmured to himself. “Maybe it was Pyka?” 

“No, it wasn't her voice,” Marianne said with confidence. 

“Well, maybe you have a guardian angel?” Bog picked up his soda taking a sip before he set it down and rolled his fingers in the air, a cigarette appearing. Marianne stared at him and Bog lifted one brow at her. “What...you believe in demons now, but not angels?” 

“Oh hell,” Marianne muttered. 

* 

Sitting on the roof of the motel where Bog and Marianne were staying, a woman grinned. She giggled and rubbed her hands together in glee as she stood up. She had long white hair that had a decidedly blue shimmer to it, straight and fell down to her waist. She wore a pair of long white and silver striped bell-bottoms, a top that was simply the same cloth as the pants that formed a cross over her breasts. She looked as if she had stolen her outfit from Cher's closet in the 1970's. 

She sighed happily as she turned to look up at the moon. She put her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss up at the starlit sky then she started to sing an Abba song as she began to dance across the roof. 

“Look into his angeleyes 

One look and you're hypnotized 

He'll take your heart and you must pay the price 

Look into his angeleyes 

You'll think you're in paradise 

And one day you'll find out he wears a disguise 

Don't look too deep into those angeleyes 

Oh no no no no...” 

She danced in a perfect imitation of Cher as she moved across the roof, then off of it...disappearing... the only sound was a whispered voice on the air continuing to sing. 

“Ah-ha-ha, keep thinking, ah-aaaah 

Keep thinking 'bout his angeleyes 

Ah-ha-ha, keep thinking, ah-aaaah 

Keep thinking, I had to pay the price....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Bog recites is by Sara Teasdale and the vows are Celtic wedding vows (Outlander).


	13. The Love That's There

Marianne had no idea when she fell asleep. She and Bog had spent nearly all day closed away from the world in the tiny motel room, making love...except for when Bog would run out for food, coming back with a variety of foods that she was sure he didn't find at a truck stop. Bathroom breaks, a very sexy shower which had ended up with lots of laughing because of how small the shower stall was...the image of Bog looking down at her, water running down his face...Marianne shivered with her eyes closed just remembering looking up at him in that shower, those blue eyes of his. She could lose herself forever in just his eyes, let alone everything else she loved about him. They had even taken a break to laugh at old movies on the ancient TV that came with the room, with her curled in the crook of his arm, her head against his chest, feeling the warmth that came off of him while the light scent of his cigarette smoke drifted from above her head. 

Sometime during all of that, she had dozed off to the light touch of his fingertips caressing her shoulder or stroking her hair. When she woke up though, it was to the sound of a guitar. 

Her eyes fluttered open. She couldn't tell what time it was, the curtains of the small window were closed, the only light came from the lamp on the bedside table, and that was rather dim. 

She was on her side facing the inside of the room, still naked under the sheets. Sitting on the side of the bed was Bog, a halo of smoke around his head, with her guitar in his lap playing it softly. He was dressed all in black, black slacks, black dress shirt and the back of the vest was black at least; she couldn't tell from where she was lying if the rest of the vest was black too. He looked like a shadow sitting on the side of her bed. He had his long legs crossed, the light showing her that there was a very light pin-stripping to the slacks. She could see the two-tone wing-tipped oxfords he was wearing, the light shining off their polished surface. He leaned over the guitar on his lap while he played, as if he were cradling it to him like a child. She smiled listening, then realized after a few moments she knew the tune. 

But then he started to sing his voice low, like a whisper. 

* 

“I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping 

While my guitar gently weeps 

I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping 

Still my guitar gently weeps 

* 

I don't know why nobody told you 

How to unfold your love 

I don't know how someone controlled you 

They bought and sold you I look at the world and I notice it's turning 

While my guitar gently weeps 

With every mistake we must surely be learning 

Still my guitar gently weeps 

Well... 

* 

I don't know how you were diverted 

You were perverted too 

I don't know how you were inverted 

No one alerted you 

* 

I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping.... 

While my guitar gently weeps... 

I look at you all... 

While my guitar gently weeps... 

* 

Marianne felt her eyes burn listening to the mournful way Bog was singing, the gut-wrenching emotion that tore through her at the way he was playing the guitar. His voice dropped lower, just a breath of sound. 

“While my guitar gently weeps...” 

He stopped, laying his hand against the guitar's strings. 

“You hungry?” Bog asked quietly without turning around. 

“Bog?” Marianne reached out and ran the tips of her fingers along his spine. Bog's body rolled with her touch almost like a cat. 

Bog set the guitar down on the floor, turning around to face her as he took the cigarette out of his mouth. Marianne could see there was pain in his expression. 

She reached for him. “Lay down with me.” 

She scooted back. Bog frowned, but he gave his hand a quick twist, the cigarette disappearing, the only evidence of it was the smoke that lingered around Bog. He scooted onto the bed, letting Marianne guide his head down to her breasts to lay him against her. She idly stroked his hair, her fingers caressing softly. She felt him relax and lay a hand against her stomach. 

“What's wrong Bog?” Marianne asked softly. 

“I feel as if I have damned you. I never wanted that Marianne. How can I love you and damn you at the same time? That—that isn't love.” Bog curled into her a little, his hand going around her and squeezing her to him. 

Marianne whispered while caressing his hair. “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.” 

Bog chuckled softly, she could feel his breath move like a caress over her skin. “Shakespeare?” 

Marianne shrugged. “The man wrote some really good lines about love and he's correct. It isn't God or the Devil that holds our destinies Bog. God gave us free will. Our destinies are for us to choose.” 

Bog said nothing. He just closed his eyes and held on to her. 

Marianne quietly stroked his hair. “Do you still think we should go to the music festival?” 

She could feel his lips against her skin. “Yes, more than ever. I want you to experience everything you ever wanted. I still want you to live your life to the fullest, especially now that I don't know if the contract is valid or not, I don't know what will happen. But I do know I want your life to be filled with opportunity and magic...” 

Marianne smiled. “It already is.” 

Bog sat up to gaze into her eyes, those brown eyes that he could fall into, willingly become lost in for eternity. Marianne stroked his face with the tips of her fingers. She slid her fingers into his hair and tugged him closer to cover his mouth with hers. Bog leaned on his arms and returned her kiss. His mouth slowly moved over hers, his tongue tenderly sliding along hers. Marianne sank back against the pillows tugging Bog with her. He eased down beside her wrapping his arm around her. 

* 

Outside Pyka sighed. She was dressed today like a reject from a Pippi Longstocking movie with red and white striped stockings, combat boots and a blue and white gingham dress that only reached the top of her thighs. Her white hair was parted in the middle and hung in long white braids along the sides of her face. She sat on a highway sign near the motel where Marianne and Bog were staying. She was smoking, but with that nervous energy of a three or four pack a day smoker. No one could see her sitting on the sign unless they weren't human, however. No need to upset the local wildlife, she mused. She was happy that Bog and Marianne had finally consummated their love, but it hadn't solved anything like she had hoped it would. She wasn't really sure what she expected to happen, but “nothing” wasn't it. She was also upset because Jezebel was plotting. Not just plotting, but she was recruiting...looking for demons willing to kill others of their kind, to kill anyone—and she had found one. Pyka shivered. His name was Devin. Pyka had heard about him; he was good at what he did, tall, good-looking, and as charming as the devil himself. And Devin was blood-thirsty. Devin would kill anyone he was paid to...(though Pyka had heard many differing stories of what Devin took as payment). Pyka was sure Jezebel didn't want Bog dead, but, knowing Jezebel, she wanted him to suffer. Her desire for him, her need to win was turning into something even darker...Jezebel was going to hurt him, torture him until he begged her to stop—which meant Marianne was in a great deal more danger than she had been before. 

Pyka brooded over what to do, how to save them both from Jezebel's wrath when she felt the presence of someone sitting beside her. Pyka glanced sideways to see another woman sitting beside her. For a moment Pyka was certain she saw a shadow that resembled a pair of wings, but the image quickly faded to nothing. 

Neither woman said anything for a long time until finally Pyka sighed. “What are you doing here?” 

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? Watching over my charges,” the woman next to Pyka said in a cheery voice. 

Pkya turned to glare at the woman. The woman beside her wore a lemon yellow crop top and a pair of matching bell-bottoms, with a white lace cover over the top of the bell bottoms and top. Her bluish white hair had that crimped 70's look. She also wore a pair of silver, 70's style high heel sandals. Pyka made a gagging sound. “You know the 70's are dead right.” 

The woman rocked her head back and forth mocking Pyka. “You know the 70's are dead.” 

Pyka shrugged turning away. “What do you want Plum?” 

“I told you, watching my charges.” Plum smiled as she brushed her hair back over her shoulder in a decidedly “Cher-like” movement. 

“Bog isn't your charge any longer—you know that right?” Pyka summoned a new cigarette letting the butt of the old one fall to the street below where it vanished before hitting the pavement. 

“Just because he made a bad deal doesn't mean he isn't still mine,” Plum said with a grin. 

“Whatever,” Pyka muttered irritated. 

“You're wondering what to do now, aren't you?” Plum asked. “The young lovers are finally together—young being a state of mind in Bog's case—but now what happens? Bog is still a demon, Marianne is still under contract! Jezebel is being a bitch, as usual I might add, and now our lovers are in more danger!” Plum made her voice dramatic like a movie trailer announcer. “And what pray tell does little Pyka get out of all this for trying to do a good deed? Stay tuned viewers!” 

Plum giggled and swung her legs back and forth. 

Pyka sighed. “What does happen?” 

Plum smiled. “No idea sweetie. It's all about free will and choices and a whole lot of grey in between. We should just watch, keep them safe until we figure it out. BUT I will tell you this, we are both on the right track. I can feel it in my wings.” 

Pyka frowned as she glanced sideways at Plum and conceded, “I suppose that's reassuring.” 

They were quiet for a little while when Pyka spoke again. “Is Marianne yours too?” 

“Yep. I'm the one who saved her from Jezebel's little stunt.” Plum suddenly had a wad of bubblegum in her mouth and started to blow bubbles. 

“Aren't you going to get in trouble?” Pyka asked. 

“Nah, that just goes under the heading of guardian angel stuff. Besides, it wasn't a natural accident.” Plum popped a bubble. 

Pyka nodded then said in a hushed voice. “Jez is hiring Devin to go after Marianne.” 

Plum frowned, blowing a large bubble and popping it. “Really? Didn't think she was that desperate yet.” 

Pyka sighed. “She is half crazy about this. I just...she wants Bog groveling at her feet now. She wants to destroy him. I thought she was hiring Devin to kill him, but she has her sights firmly on Marianne.” 

The two women were quiet again. 

Plum stood up on the edge of the street sign. Pyka looked up. “Should we warn them?” 

Plum shook her head. “No, no...Bog might do something stupid then...no, just...I'll be back. I have to do a bit of digging. Can I trust you to watch out for them?” 

Pyka nodded. “Yeah just...why can't I tell them?” 

Plum smiled. “Because Bog will do whatever is in his power to protect Marianne which might get him killed and I know Marianne would do the same...don't want them martyring themselves for one another, now do we? I know enough about Devin to know we have time. He likes to take his jobs extremely slow, careful...he won't rush.” Plum touched her chin with one finger, a light glow around her that started at her head and melted down her body, changing her clothing as the halo of light moved down her body. She was now wearing a pair of shimmering, skin-tight purple pants and a shimmering green tube top with a pair of glittery glam rock boots. Pyka made a face at Plum's fashion choices. 

“I'm off, talk to you soon Pyka dear.” Plum popped a bubblegum bubble at Pkya and with that she was gone. 

Pyka sighed. “I hope you find something that will help.” 

* 

Bog drove while Marianne played her guitar next to him. (New truck, all her things intact...Marianne did not ask how.) He had one hand out the window holding his cigarette, dressed in his pinstripe suit minus the jacket, wearing only the shirt, vest and slacks, the tie hanging over the seat with the jacket. Marianne wore a boho style tunic dress with long, loose sleeves, in bright purple and blue colors. She had on a pair of knee high boots of light brown leather that Bog had given to her that morning. She was singing a song by Heart while Bog drove drumming his fingers with the music and enjoying the gorgeous timbre and lilt of her voice. 

* 

If we still have time, we might still get by 

Every time I think about it, I want to cry 

With bombs and the devil, and the kids keep comin' 

No way to breathe easy, no time to be young 

But I tell myself that I was doin' all right 

There's nothin' left to do at night 

But go crazy on you 

Crazy on you 

Let me go crazy, crazy on you, oh 

My love is the evenin' breeze touchin' your skin 

The gentle, sweet singin' of leaves in the wind 

The whisper that calls after you in the night 

And kisses your ear in the early moonlight 

And you don't need to wonder, you're doing fine 

My love, the pleasure's mine 

Let me go crazy on ya 

Crazy on you 

Let me go crazy, crazy on you, ohhh... 

* 

Bog smiled as he listened to her. She was more than simply talented. In the time that he had been with Marianne, her skills had only grown. She could be famous, become a real star if she wanted. He frowned slightly, worrying that maybe his presence would hamper her. Marianne finished the song, her fingers moving over the strings of the guitar drawing out the tune and adding some of her own music, blending it perfectly with the sound of the song's chords. But then she laid her hands across the strings to stop them from vibrating. 

“Bog, tell me about your family.” Marianne said suddenly, the request coming from no where. 

“My family?” Bog frowned in confusion, taken aback by her request. 

“Yes, where you come from. Who your people were.” Marianne set the guitar down between her legs and turned to him. 

Bog frowned, his eyes growing distant. “I was raised by my mother Griselda. My father, Donngal, died at the battle of the Standard when I was boy...that was 1138..39? I don't remember exactly, I just remember him not coming home.” 

Marianne swallowed thinking to herself that Bog was a boy in 1138? But she said nothing as Bog continued. “My mother was tough as nails. She refused to marry again and fought to hold the earldom for me until I was of age.” Bog chuckled. “She could fight with the best of them. Didn't take her long to have the clan following her orders happily. You would have liked her I think. She was short, shorter than you.” Bog glanced sideways at her with a smile. “She could be loud and brassy, but she was a loving woman.” 

Bog sighed. “When she died I didn't just lose my mother. I lost my own supporter, the one person who always believed in me.” 

Marianne tilted her head. “So, does that mean you're an earl?” 

Bog laughed. “I was, once, yes.” 

Marianne grinned and winkled her nose at him. “I've never met royalty before...not what I was expecting.” 

Bog laughed, this time a full belly laugh. Marianne loved the sound. “Well my lassie, I don't think ye will come across a lot of earls as old as me.” 

They both laughed. After a bit Marianne asked. “How did she die?” 

Bog smiled. “In her bed, quietly in her sleep...but not before she fought like a wild dog. She had wanted to see me married with children of my own before she went, but...it wasn't meant to be.” 

“So the woman you loved?” Marianne ventured softly. 

Bog nodded. “Aye, that all happened not long after my mother died. I would say she took advantage of my grief, but no—I knew what I was doing.” 

They were both quiet. Marianne had so many questions for him, but she didn't want to push. 

Bog pressed his lips together. “What was your mother like?” 

Marianne smiled. “She was...she was quiet, but she had this strength about her. Her name was Helen. I remember her as this bigger than life figure, beautiful, tender and she would sing all the time.” 

Bog smiled as Marianne continued. “She died when I was thirteen...car accident on her way to pick me up from band practice.” Marianne swallowed and looked out the window. Bog reached over and placed his hand on her thigh. “It wasn't your fault.” 

Marianne laid her hand over his. “I know that now, but it took me years to realize it.” 

Neither of them said another word, but Bog laced his fingers with hers and held her hand. 

* 

It was getting late. They still had a few miles to go before they hit the nearest town and could get a motel for the night. But first, Bog pulled into a rest stop so they could stretch their legs. Marianne hopped out, stretching her arms over her head with a long groan and a pop of her back. She smiled watching Bog. He moved his neck, cracking it before he (with some demonic slight of hand) summoned a cigarette. 

“I'll be right back.” Marianne smiled heading to the rest rooms. Bog nodded. “I'll be walking.” 

“Okay, I'll catch up with you.” Marianne called over her shoulder. 

Bog watched her go with a slight grin, watching the way the light breeze blew her dress, her short punky hair, the way her hips moved and then when she turned and waved at him, Bog's heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful—just watching her move made him excited. It felt strange to feel anything after such a long time. Bog brought his cigarette to his mouth and took a long deep pull. “You are a stupid old man,” Bog muttered to himself. 

* 

When Marianne returned from the restrooms, it only took her a minute to find Bog. She could see him in the twilight standing on the edge of the grassy area, a few trees behind him, and a ring of smoke around him. She noticed that there were a few people here at the rest stop and of those, several were staring at Bog. He did cut quite the figure; tall, lean, wearing an expensive black suit, his black hair slicked back from his sharp face. Marianne rolled her lips dragging her teeth over her bottom lip. They needed something to lighten the mood after discussions of damnation and their mothers. 

She glanced at the truck. It wasn't exactly in a quiet spot, there were several large hauling trucks parked behind them, but as for small personal cars, there were only a handful and none of them were parked around their vehicle. 

Marianne strolled over to where Bog stood with her hands behind her back and a small smile brightening her expression. Bog turned when he saw her. “Ready?” 

“Yes...and no.” Marianne grinned, reaching out for Bog's hand. He let her take his hand, frowning with curiosity as she tugged him toward the truck. 

“What do you mean, yes and no?” Bog asked. 

“Do you know what necking is?” Marianne asked as she pulled the truck's door open and hopped inside. Bog chuckled walking around to the driver's side and slipped in. “Yes, I have heard of necking.” 

“Did they have necking in the 12th century?” Marianne asked all smiles. 

Bog laughed aloud. She loved it when he gave a genuine laugh. “Yes I think every century has had something like necking, why?” 

“Because...” Marianne reached over, drawing her fingers along his jaw. “I want to make out with you right now.” 

“What?” Bog's cheeks reddened. 

Marianne had to giggle; she could make a demon blush. Marianne guided his mouth to hers, her hand resting against the side of his neck, her mouth moving gradually over his, her tongue brushing along his tongue, his teeth. She felt Bog's hand on her hip, leaning toward her, his fingers gently squeezing. Marianne scooted closer, her arm going around his waist. Bog grabbed her legs, lifting them over his lap as he scooted closer to her. 

Their kissing became more heated. Marianne ran a hand up his chest feeling the lean muscles underneath. Bog growled and grabbed her tongue gently in his teeth, she could feel that his teeth had become sharper, but he was careful not to draw blood. Marianne grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast which earned her a soft squeeze, causing her to moan. She reached up with her hand, grabbed a fistful of Bog's hair at the back of his head to press his mouth more firmly against hers, and leaned back, taking Bog with her. Bog ran his hand up from her breast to her neck, his long fingers wrapping around her throat, just enough pressure that she could feel his touch, but not so much that he was hurting her while they kissed. Bog growled again leaning back, switching directions and tugging her with him. He shifted his whole body to the middle of the truck seat and lifted Marianne up; she immediately straddled his lap cupping his head between her hands deepening the kiss, her tongue brushing over his teeth while her fingers massaged his scalp. She lifted up on her knees. Bog's breathing became more and more ragged, his hands slid down her hips then up under her dress feeling the warm silk of her skin. 

Marianne moaned. “Oh Bog..” She pressed her body against him. His long fingers brushed over her stomach gliding up her sides to caress the exposed skin around her bra then back down to tickle along the edge of her panties. 

Marianne lowered herself down in order to press against him, feeling his erection trapped by his slacks. When she pressed down on him Bog hissed, his hips jerking involuntary toward her, feeling the damp heat coming from between her legs. He teased her back by grasping her breasts, in the process lifting her dress up to squeeze and brush his thumbs over her hard nipples that he could feel through the fabric of her bra. Marianne groaned, her body aching for more. 

Marianne grinned, brushing her nose against his catching the side of her bottom lip in a wicked little grin. 

“Do you want me Bog?” 

Bog groaned, his eyes traveling over her face, burning with desire. “Yes Marianne, yes I want you.” 

Marianne reached down and started to try to undo his slacks, but she was having trouble doing it from her position and being slick about it just wasn't working (the thought that movies made you feel that you should be able to do all this easily was all lies!) 

Bog chuckled. “Let me tough girl.” 

Marianne nipped at his lips while he worked the button and zipper until she felt the heat of his shaft against her leg which only made her body ache more with need. That delicious feeling in her stomach, the quickening in her groin made her groan. “Bog...” 

Under her dress Bog pulled her panties aside lowering her down as he held himself ready. Marianne put her hands on his shoulders, spreading her legs around him until she felt him push into her, past the wet welcoming barrier until he was fully connected with her body. Her fingers on his shoulders jerked, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and vest, her back arched, the inner muscles of her groin grabbed him tight. 

“Marianne...” Bog groaned. The sound he made was a cross between a groan and a whimper when his body connected with hers. He grabbed her waist, his fingers pressing into her soft flesh under her dress and started to move her hips, dragging her forward then letting her pull back while he thrust his hips upward in deep small thrusts. 

Marianne shuddered. “Bog, oh Bog..” She bowed herself over him pressing her head against his while she weaved her hips, thrusting forward and back, up and down. She wanted to go slow, but he felt so good that she kept picking up speed. “Bog, Bog, Bog!” 

Bog was panting as he held onto her hips, his eyes riveted to her face. “Marianne...yes Marianne...yes...” 

She cupped his face, her hands on either side of his throat, her hips rolling quicker, harder. Her breath came in panting gasps. Bog wrapped both arms around her, holding her tight. Then, when she came, he pulled her down, pressing her tightly down on him feeling her body tighten and convulse. 

“Ooooooouuuu...BOG!!” 

Her arms went around his neck holding on tightly, her body thrusting harder, faster until Bog couldn't hold back any longer. The way her pelvis rose and thrust down on him drove all speech from his mind; he felt only the ecstasy of her touch and their emotion coiling, joining. His head dropped back against the seat, his grip around her tight when he let out a loud, drawn out moan of delight, bursting inside her with a spike of heat that Marianne felt through her entire body. 

They held on to each other, not collapsing exactly, but neither of them could move a muscle for a few heartbeats. Marianne laid her head against his shoulder trying to get her breathing back under control. Bog held her, then he ran his fingers up and down her spine in a slow and gentle caress. 

Marianne had her head facing out the driver's window. It had grown darker outside, the first stars starting to wink into existence in the night sky. She smiled, content and whispered, “I love you Bog.” 

He tightened his grip around her. “I love you Marianne. My angel.” 

Bog nuzzled her neck losing himself in her scent and feel. They were both quiet for a while before Bog whispered. “I will fight for you Marianne. No matter what comes, I will fight for you.” 

Marianne tightened her arms around him smiling. “And I will fight for you Bog. Don't ever think I won't.” 

Bog lifted his head to gaze into her brown eyes, so soft and welcoming. They say that eyes are the window to the soul, Bog thought to himself and when he looked into 

Marianne's eyes what he saw was a soul, pure and beautiful, not perfect—she wouldn't be Marianne if she were perfect, but her soul was a shining light in his darkness. Bog caressed her lips feather light with his thumb which caused Marianne to giggle and suck her lips in. “That tickles.” 

Bog chuckled, switching his caress to her chin. Marianne smiled at him and whispered, “We will fight for each other.” 

Bog frowned ever so slightly as he caressed her face. Marianne tilted her head gazing at him. “What is it?” 

“I'm not worth it Marianne. I never was and I'm definitely not now.” Bog ran the very tips of his fingers down her throat, then along her collar. The way he gazed at her made Marianne feel warm, loved, protected, but she lightly smacked him on the shoulder. “I'm going to quote Faulkner here and say, “You don’t love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.” I love you Bog, no matter what. I love you for who you are, what you are and who you will be. You are my friend, now my lover and nothing in heaven or hell is going to keep me from you. You got that? Nothing.” Marianne gave his shoulder another good smack. 

Bog chuckled then quoted softly. “If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.” He grinned at her, all fangs and slightly crooked teeth. “Tennyson.” 

Marianne laughed. “Your quote is much sweeter than mine.” 

Bog laughed. “I've read more and I'm a lot older, but yours made a point.” He chuckled. “I love you.” 

Marianne stroked her fingers through his hair. “I love you, my demon.” 

Bog whispered against her lips, his blue eyes burned into hers while he spoke. 

“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, 

Enwrought with golden and silver light, 

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths 

Of night and light and the half light, 

I would spread the cloths under your feet: 

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; 

I have spread my dreams under your feet; 

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams” 

Marianne blushed. “Who wrote that?” 

Bog smiled. “Yeats. I knew him.” 

Marianne's eyes widened. “Did he...” 

Bog chuckled. “No, no, not a 'client,' he was just a friend...” 

* 

Out in the middle of the desert, Jezebel laid naked on a wide lounge chair. There was another chair positioned beside her so that the young woman who was lounging on it naked could lay her head in Jezebel's lap. On the other side of Jezebel was another lounge chair in a similar position with a young man lying across it with his head also in her lap. Jezebel was absently stroking the hair of both of them with her hands while she waited. 

She hated waiting, but one couldn't rush Devin—he arrived when he wanted to...but it still didn't mean she wasn't annoyed. The two people with her, a brother and sister had recently made a deal with her for eternal youth and beauty...the vain little things, though they were both quite beautiful it was true. They would indeed stay beautiful since they were going to die next week...or was it next month? Jezebel frowned, she couldn't remember the details of the contract since she had been a little distracted. She giggled as she shrugged, summoning a black cigarette attached to a long cigarette holder and a pair of large, sparkling sunglasses. She sighed, slipped on the sunglasses, wondering where Pyka had gone off to when someone appeared in front of her. 

Jezebel sat up and looked over the top of her sunglasses. 

“Oh well if it isn't Plum pudding.” Jezebel smiled. 

Standing before her, wearing a pink bell bottomed jumpsuit with a heart cut out in the middle showing off her navel, stood Plum, her long bluish white hair worn in a feathered style that would have made Farrah Fawcett jealous. 

Plum smiled. “Hello Jezebel, heard you were snaking about.” 

Jezebel chuckled. “Oh, you're funny. What do you want except to assault me with your poor taste in an era fashion? Didn't you steal that from Agnetha Fältskog?” 

Plum ignored Jezebel's verbal stab at her. 

“I just came to warn you. Don't bring Devin here.” Plum crossed her arms over her chest throwing her feathered bluish white hair over her shoulder. 

“Who told you that?” Jezebel sat up glaring over the top of her sunglasses. 

“I have sources Jez, I would think after all these centuries you would figure that out.” Plum grinned. 

Jezebel sneered. “You shouldn't make threats Plum, especially ones you can't back up.” Jezebel laid back down. 

Plum smiled pleasantly. “Oh now who's the one making threats they can't back up? Just thought I would warn you. Once Devin is involved, things will become...dangerous. You're playing with fire.” 

“Oh hahaha, like that scares me. What do you care anyway, this is demon business.” Jezebel blew smoke in Plum's direction. 

Plum conjured a sucker from thin air and stuck it in her mouth. “It's not just demon business Jez...it never is just demon business...I delivered my warning, that's all I can do.” 

Jezebel stuck her tongue out. “Yes you did, now go away.” 

Plum shrugged and disappeared in a puff of glitter. Jezebel rolled her eyes. “You always were flamboyant Plum.” 

That was the moment that Devin appeared in a puff of brimstone. Jezebel rolled her eyes again muttering. “What is wrong with everyone with all these dramatic entrances and exits today?” 

But she smiled in satisfaction. Devin always reminded Jezebel of a long-haired Colin Farrell...he was from the same country except from about the 10th century. If Jezebel remembered correctly, old Devin had been a monk when he had been alive, a very bad monk...and Devin wasn't his true name. 

Devin smiled. “Jezebel,” he said in his accented voice. “I heard you had a job for me.” 

Jezebel stood, carefully leaving her sleeping clients on the lounge chairs and grinned at the other demon. “Oh I do.” She had to admire Devin, he was quite handsome with his roguish good looks and devil-may-care smile, but his eyes were hard, flat; there was nothing emotional going on behind those eyes, probably never had been even when he was alive. Which was why he was such a good killing machine, he didn't care about others or himself, he was all about the thrill. 

“So, Devin, sweetie. I have a job for you. I want you to seduce and kill a human for me.” 

Devil sneered. “A human? That's too simple.” He turned as if he were going to walk away, but Jez was unconcerned. “She is in love with a demon and that demon is in love with her.” 

Devin turned around with a vicious grin. “Really? Tell me more.” 

Jez laughed. “I knew you would be interested. I'll have Pyka show you where to start.” 

* 

Marianne was driving and singing happily, a bright smile on her face. Bog watched her as he leaned back in the corner where the seat nearly touched the door. It was dark out now with only the stars above shedding little light down on the landscape. He simply wore his dress shirt, the top buttons undone down to the top of his chest showing off just a scattering of chest hair. He looked incredible sexy with his legs crossed smiling at her. Marianne shivered happily. Marianne continued to sing tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. 

* 

“I don't want you to be no slave 

I don't want you to work all day 

But I want you to be true 

And I just wanna make love to you 

Love to you, ooohooo 

Love to you … 

* 

“Is that Etta James?” Bog asked after about two minutes of listening to her sing. Marianne nodded giving him a big grin as she continued. 

* 

“...And I can tell by the way you walk that walk 

And I can hear by the way you talk that talk 

And I can know by the way you treat your girl 

That I could give you all the loving in the whole wide world.... 

* 

Bog chuckled and clapped when she was done. “You have an incredible voice Marianne.” 

Marianne giggled. “You're just saying that 'cause you like me.” 

Bog laughed. “I do like you. A little more than like...” He winked at her. “But no, I mean it. I've heard some amazing singers over my existence Marianne, and you are one of the best I've heard.” 

Marianne blushed turning her focus back to the road. “You think we'll make it there today?” 

Bog blinked then realized what she was talking about. “Not today, but tomorrow yes, I think we will if nothing odd happens like the truck deciding to up and quit.” 

Marianne frowned. “Couldn't you, I don't know...” She waved her hand around vaguely. Bog started laughing again. “I might, but it's actually easier just to get another car or get this one fixed if something happened.” 

“Oh, ooookay...” She frowned. “Are you like limited on magic or something?” 

“No, it's not magic exactly...but there is no point in drawing unwanted attention. What if someone were to stop and offer to help if we pulled over because this one broke down? Or if I were to materialize a new car on the side of the road, someone might notice. Humans tend to ask questions.” Bog grinned. “But if you want, I can materialize a car.” 

“Why don't you materialize food and stuff?” Marianne glanced sideways at him. Bog shrugged. “Never tastes as good.” 

“Oh. Seriously?” Marianne nodded. 

Bog grinned. “Seriously.” 

They drove quietly for a little bit while Marianne mulled this over. “So small things are better, like clothing, cigarettes...that sort of thing?” 

Bog nodded. “The less flashy, the less attention you draw. It's just simpler that way.” 

Marianne frowned nodding. “Makes sense I suppose.” 

She was quiet, her attention on the road. Bog hummed softly, surprising her when he reached out and placed his hand on her thigh. She smiled. His hand was warm and it felt good against her thigh. She waited a few more minutes before Marianne grinned. “Your turn.” 

“My turn?” Bog sat up and stretched his arms over his head distracting Marianne. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the way his shirt rose up on the sides showing a hint of skin when he stretched arching his back slightly. “What do you feel like?” Bog asked dropping his arms. 

“Mm...something sort of rockabilly.” She grinned. 

Bog pursed his lips in thought, then he grinned and started to snap his fingers. It only took her a moment to realize what he was about to sing... 

“This thing called love I just can't handle it this thing called love I must get round to it 

I ain't ready 

Crazy little thing called love 

This (This Thing) called love (Called Love) 

It cries (Like a baby) 

In a cradle all night 

It swings (Woo Woo) 

It jives (Woo Woo) 

It shakes all over like a jelly fish, 

I kinda like it 

Crazy little thing called love …. 

* 

With pleasure, Marianne picked up the song, their voices melding together to create something special. Marianne started to thump a beat on the steering wheel while Bog really put his all into singing, making goosebumps race up Marianne's spine. They were both smiling as they drove along singing together when Bog saw someone standing at the side of the road. Marianne didn't seem to notice, but as they drove by Bog saw that it was Pyka, waving her arms, her face etched with fear.


	14. How Deep is Your Love

Bog's eyes widened when he saw Pyka waving her arms like a mad person on the side of the road. Good thing no one would be able to see her, except him and any other heavenly or daemonic entities who were paying attention...so probably no one. Something was clearly wrong or she was crazy, which he knew was true, very true, he thought to himself. Bog glanced at Marianne, but it was clear by her expression she hadn't seen anything. 

“Marianne, ah...the next rest stop, can you pull over?” Bog asked trying to keep his voice calm. He turned to face her doing his best to look casual, which didn't work; 

Marianne instantly knew something was up. 

Marianne frowned, her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Are you all right?” 

Bog smile,d but even he could tell it wasn't a convincing smile. “Yes of course.” 

The narrow eyed looked that Marianne gave him told him exactly what she thought of that statement, but after about twenty minutes of uncomfortable silence with Marianne glaring at the road ahead and clearly annoyed with him for lying, a sign for a rest stop appeared. Marianne turned the wheel directing the vehicle down the exit toward the rest stop. 

When they pulled in and parked, they both saw Pyka sitting on a park bench dressed in a black and white Lolita dress with striped black and white stockings, Mary Janes and her hair in pigtails with over- sized black and white ribbons. She looked no older than fifteen in her get up, but she was puffing on her cigarettes at a mile a minute drawing the attention of anyone who walked by her. She looked sorely out of place at a rest stop dressed like she was and with her cigarettes, but she was clearly exuding an aura of “Stay the fuck away” because no one had approached her. 

As Bog and Marianne approached her, she snarled. “Took you two long enough.” 

Bog snarled in reply and for a moment his eyes flashed an unnatural shade of blue, his fangs becoming dominant as he summoned a lit cigarette. Marianne put a hand on Bog calming him as she swiftly looked around, but if anyone noticed Bog's facial changes or his summoned cigarette they didn't show it. Just like Bog said...little things were easy. 

“So what is so important that you were waving on the side of the road like a fucking idiot?” Bog asked, taking a long slow pull on his cigarette. He blew out the smoke slowly, the whole process seemed to calm him. 

Pyka looked between the two of them. “Devin is here! He is on the hunt!” 

Bog's eyes widened just a fraction. Marianne caught the change in Bog's expression from the corner of her eye. 

She turned to look at him with concern. “I'm guessing this Devin is bad news?” 

Pyka snorted. “You have no fucking idea how bad. Look, I wasn't supposed to tell you, but—I just...I had to.” For a moment Pyka thought about Plum's warning, but Pyka felt that she had to warn them. It seemed stupid to her not to warn them. Hopeless Plum would be working on something to stop Devin...and if the angel's plans fell through, Pyka had done what she could by warning them. 

Bog exhaled heavily in irritation as he turned his back on the two of them. His mind raced. Devin! Damn Jezebel! He had crossed paths with Devin several times in his afterlife, when someone would try to take Bog out or when Bog got in Devin's way, but it had never ended well for either of them. The last time Bog and Devin had encountered each other, Bog had been laid up for nearly a month; he still carried several scars from that time. Bog had injured Devin just as badly. Since that time the two demons had pretty much stayed away from one another. They hadn't crossed paths in several decades. But now he was here, and Bog was sure Jezebel had sent him after Marianne. Bog turned back around, his cigarette gone again as he grabbed Marianne by the shoulders. “I need to take you home. I...no...no, not home...some place he can't find you, some place safe...” 

Marianne gasped when Bog grabbed her, his grip painful. She didn't get a chance to say anything before he had let her go and started to pace while muttering. “This isn't good, not good at all.” 

Marianne started to say something, but she closed her mouth. For a moment she saw...something...as if a reflection over Bog, a tall thin creature with wings that ran down the length of his back, clawed hands, his body covered in some sort of armor. His features looked longer, sharper and there was something...violent about him. The monster she saw was made for tearing, for killing...but at the same moment she saw the monster superimposed over Bog, the image was gone replaced by the Bog she knew. Pyka reached out to gently take Marianne's hand causing the young woman to jump. 

“It's okay. He's just worried and agitated. Makes it hard to hold his form.” Pyka gave her a smile. 

“What did..?” Marianne asked in a hushed voice. 

Pyka smiled. “Did you think we look like this all the time? What you see as Bog right now, is Bog; it's how he looked before he died, before he sold his soul...what you saw there...that double vision thing? That was him too...that's his...” She waved a hand in the air as if she couldn't find better words, though not for lack of trying. “That is his more...demonic form...a manifestation of his anger, his fear...his power too. Both are him.” Pyka gave her a mischievous smile. “You should see mine. I'm hot either way.” Pyka laughed and gave Marianne a wink. 

Bog turned and hissed. “Pyka? What are you talking about?” His blue eyes flashed dangerously, but also with a hint of fear. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Pyka smiled at Marianne as she put a finger to her lips for a brief second. Marianne swallowed and decided to think about this new information later, though she was amazed to realize that knowing Bog had a demonic form and seeing hints of it was totally different than knowing it in an abstract way. Regardless, the information didn't change the way she felt about Bog. She was in love with him, all of him. But, right now she was going to focus on their current problem. 

“I'm not leaving.” Marianne looked between Bog and Pyka. 

Both of them at the same time yelped. “What?” 

“I'm not going to let some demon run me into hiding. Besides, you guys are immortal, I'm not and I am not going to spend my life hiding. Maybe we can...I don't know...fight back some how? Couldn't we? I mean there has to be a way to fight your kind. Otherwise why aren't demons everywhere?” Marianne asked looking between the two of them. 

Bog frowned, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, then cracked it before he spoke. “First, things just don't work that way Marianne. But...we might be able to trap him.” 

Pyka made a face. “Oh Bog, that's a bad idea.” 

Bog ignored her and continued. “If I call him out, he won't be able to resist coming to fight me.” 

Pyka continued to shake her head. “Bog...Bad. Idea. Bad idea! Last time you two fought you both ended up...well bad, nearly dead bad..” 

Marianne was looking between the two demons. “What happened?” 

Pyka snorted. “They almost killed each other. Though I will say, Bog's the only demon to ever go up against Devin and walk away. Devin is bad news and he hires himself out to take out other demons. He ain't someone you play with.” She blew a smoke ring at Marianne. 

Marianne wrinkled her nose brushing away the smoke with a frown. “Then what are our options?” 

Bog summoned another cigarette. “We could go talk to the Horned Witch.” 

Pyka gagged. “You are crazy.” 

Marianne looked between them. “The Horned Witch?” 

Bog took a long pull on his cigarette. “Her name is Ragna, she is a Rozhanitsy and a keeper of Lore. She's dangerous, temperamental and grumpy.” Bog shook his head sucking in hard on the cigarette. “And she likes to ask for nearly impossible things as payment. She is one of those people you only go to when you have no other options.” Pyka looked between them. “Well I say since you have Devin on your tail, you're fresh out of options. Unless you wanna go try and take out Jezebel,, but you know that won't go well. She has too many demons in her pocket, supplicants, and acolytes. You would have to cut your way through all of them to get to her. The only reason she doesn't send them after you is because she knows you could take them out and Jez doesn't like to waste resources.” 

Bog groaned then muttered. “Fuck.” 

Pyka chuckled. “Yeah, fuck.” 

Marianne frowned then looked at Pyka. “Do you know where this Horned Witch is?” 

Pyka chewed on her bottom lip then muttered. “I can find out. That bitch moves every so many months...” 

Bog muttered. “She only moves on the solstice, she should be in one place for a few months. We just have to find her.” 

Pyka yawned, jumped up from the bench, threw her arms over her head and stretched. “Fine, I'll find her location.” 

Bog frowned but nodded. “Thank you Pyka. I...” He hestitated, considered his words. “I don't know how I can repay you for your help.” 

“Ppffft...you two just...stay together,” Pyka said softly. 

Marianne looked at Bog. “Don't worry, I'm not leaving him.” 

Bog stared at Marianne. She reached out and took one of his hands in hers and squeezed. Pyka looked between them and something passed over her eyes. She blinked quickly, then smiled. “All right, I'll catch up with you as soon as I find her location. Be safe.” 

Marianne turned and smiled. “Thank you Pyka.” 

She blushed. “Anytime Marianne.” 

With that she walked behind a tree and disappeared. 

Marianne turned to Bog, her eyes filled with worry. “This Devin is really bad, huh?” 

He nodded. “Very. He's the demon other demons call to kill demons.” 

Marianne paled. “He kills other demons...how?” 

Bog nodded. “He's strong, extremely powerful, knows how to fight, and he uses artifacts, items designed to weaken or kill our kind...and angels.” Bog squeezed her hands, sliding his fingers between hers. “He's had contracts on me several times, but he failed each time. As you can guess, he hates my guts.” Bog chuckled before breathing in deeply of his cigarette. Marianne smiled, stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around his waist while gazing up at him. 

“Is my demon hard to kill?” she asked softly, a look of pride in her eyes. 

Bog grinned down at her and she could see his sharp teeth. “Oh, very.” 

“Mm...” She smiled standing on her tiptoes to nip his chin. 

Bog reached up with one hand to stroke his fingers along her ear. “We should get back on the road and find a place to stay for the night.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Marianne purred. “Let's focus on that.” 

Bog frowned. “But you're not hard to kill Marianne. I've almost lost ye once and Devin...Devin won't be as merciful as the car wreck was; he'll torture ye hurt ye Marianne. If he seduces you...” Bog's voice caught, his accent coming out thicker and thicker with his distress. Marianne reached up grabbing his face and glared at him. 

“Bog, don't you dare think for even a moment that this Devin creep can seduce me. I should kick your ass right now for even saying that!” Marianne growled, but Bog smiled at her. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

Marianne glared. “You better be. Devin is not going to get between us. And if he shows his skanky ass around us, then together we are going to kick his sorry ass back to hell. You got it?” 

Bog smiled at her. “Forgive me?” 

Marianne let go of him, lifting a brow. “I suppose I could.” 

He cradled her face gently between his hands, tugged her forward and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that made her whole body burn with want. 

* 

Devin grinned. He had decided being blonde would be good for this job, which was why he now had long blonde hair that brushed his shoulders, the wind from the open car window blew his hair back making him look like a reincarnated Greek god. He was wearing a “wife-beater” shirt, mostly because he didn't want to cover his arms, tight black jeans to highlight his ass and package for the ladies. He had his arm hanging out of the window of a fire red Chevrolet Chevelle with a cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth and a wicked grin on his lips. He knew he was good-looking, he had never had a problem getting women to throw themselves at him, when he was alive and especially not now that he was a demon. Women couldn't resist him, and neither could men for that matter. Devin's grin widened. He was dangerous, handsome and everyone wanted him. He drummed his fingers on the door, one hand on the steering wheel.

He didn't expect to have any trouble with this one human woman, but the fact that she was Bog's woman was just the fucking cherry on top of this delicious sundae. He would make damn sure Bog got to see him ravish his woman right in front of him. Make sure he had to watch every passionate moment Devin had his hands on her...then he would let Bog go. That would be almost better than killing him. That fucking demon didn't deserve to be called a demon. He was soft, a fucking romantic. Devin hated everything about Bog, but the thing he hated most was that Bog was so fucking strong. He had no right to be as strong as he was...Devin inhaled deeply on his cigar letting the burn of the smoke calm his nerves and then he smiled. He was going to win this round against Bog. He just knew it. 

Devin grinned taking the cigar out and blew a thick stream of smoke out into the air. He adored his job. 

He leaned forward and turned up the music. The sounds of Three Dog Night's “Mama Told Me” filled the car as he drove, heading down the highway following the direction that Jezebel had sent him and the direction that the tracker was pulling. The tracker was a blade, a Damascus zigzag hunting knife that hung from his rear view mirror. The edge of the dagger was stained with some of Bog's blood from their last encounter. The blade wasn't a perfect tracker and the blood was old, but blood called to blood and it would pull him in the general direction. Jangling occasionally next to that dagger was another, but while the other was made from Damascus steel and was a mortal blade, this other was anything but...It looked like any other knife, but the blade was made from the bone of a true fallen. The sunlight caught the blade of the dagger, reflecting back a rainbow of color into the vehicle's cab. Devin had gone through several trials and many, many unpleasant situations to lay his hand on that blade. It was one of a kind and deadly. He grinned directing his eyes back from the blades to the road singing along to “Mama Told Me.” 

He was tapping his fingers along with the music when suddenly the song changed, the cab of the car filled with the sounds of the Bee Gee's “How Deep is Your Love.” “What the motherfucking...” Devin turned to see Plum sitting in the seat beside him. She was looking fuckable, he thought, in a silver gown that plunged nearly to her navel and a leg slit that ran up to her thighs to meet it, revealing a generous amount of leg; her legs were crossed which allowed the dress to fall off her legs revealing more creamy skin. Devin lifted a brow at her, his eyes skating over the exposed skin, drifting down the fall in the front, his eyes lingering on her breasts, until he finally arrived at her face. She wore a pair of over-sized round silver sunglasses and her hair was a mass of huge pale blue curls. She blew a bubble with her gum. 

“Plum,” Devin said her name turning his attention back to the road. 

“Devin.” Plum sighed on his name and blew another bubble. 

She turned in her seat to face him, laying one arm across the back of his seat. 

“So Jezebel has a big enough stick up her ass about Bog she called you in? You know she wants him right?” Plum asked as she chewed her gum. “Doesn't that piss you off?” 

Devin shrugged. “It's off set by the fact I get his human. That will really piss him off and I am all about finding ways to hurt Bog.” Devin leveled a grin at her. 

“You're fragile ego get butt-hurt Dev?” Plum said in a sing-song voice blowing a bubble at him. 

“Shut up. You don't understand...angel.” Devin narrowed his eyes at her. 

“No, I understand that you're all butt-hurt that Bog is better than you in every way. What would it take for me to get you off his ass and go do something more constructive?” Plum smiled serenely blowing another bubble. 

Devin frowned. “Why do you care about what happens between two..?” Devin's words trailed off for a couple of heartbeats. “Wait...that human...she's yours, isn't she?” 

Devin's smile expanded across his face. “That's what this is all about, eh? She's special isn't she?” 

Plum turned back around and crossed her arms over her chest as she blew a big bubble. “Dev, there are things going on here that are bigger than you or me. You don't want to get into the middle of this.” 

Devin snorted. “I'm not scared of you Plum; never have been. Yeah, you're an angel, but you're not one of the big ones.” 

“And you're not one of the big, true demons either Devin,” Plum retorted. 

“Maybe not, but I am one of the deadliest you'll ever face,” Devin promised in a quiet, measured tone. 

He moved swiftly, grabbing the smaller of the daggers, transferring his other hand onto the steering wheel as he grasped the bone blade made from a true fallen. In one second he had wrapped his hand around it and in the next he had yanked it free of the rear view mirror and plunged it into Plum's shoulder. She screamed. He ripped the blade down, cutting through her dress, his aim her perfect breasts, but before he could do more than that...she was gone. 

Devin snarled yanking the wheel of the car and screeched off the side of the road. He took a few deep breaths then looked at the bone blade dripping with what almost looked like liquid glitter. He smiled bringing the blade up and ran his tongue along it tasting her sweet blood. He may not have killed her, but she would be out of the picture for a while. The music on his stereo had changed to Cliff Richards' “Devil Woman.” 

Devin chuckled as he manifested another cigar. 

* 

Pyka had heard the call from Plum. It had been faint and it had surprised the hell out of her, but Plum always was full of surprises. Pyka had no way of knowing how she was able to call her, but she had head the call regardless. Pyka was just grateful Plum's summons hadn't happened when she was around Jezebel or there would have been hell to pay...literally. But Pyka had been looking for the Horned Witch and had been in an ocean cave at the time, by herself, so she had quickly responded. 

Pyka, her white hair worn long and straight with long, symmetrical bangs across her forehead was dressed in a black chiffon mini dress, with mesh sleeves and panels along with black thigh socks, a wide brim black hair and black buckle platform boots. She stepped out of the shadows and looked around with a slight frown. She had stepped out from the shadow of a dragon's blood tree, the flying-saucer looking top of the tree cast a round shadow down on her. She blinked, looking around at the rocky landscape realizing instantly she was on Socotra Island, one of the most remote places in the world. 

“Plum?” Pyka frowned looking around. There were three of the dragon's blood trees in the vicinity, so Pyka walked around one of them where she found Plum leaning against the trunk, her silver dress covered in glittering angel's blood. 

“PLUM! What the hell happened? Geez!” Pyka dropped to her knees next to the angel. She could see the nasty, bloody wound in her shoulder, ripped under her collarbone. 

“Please, Pyka—I need your help,” Plum groaned. 

Pyka hissed. “Tell me what to do.” 

Plum groaned. “Just get me to Khajlah. Please.” 

Pyka carefully picked up Plum. “This is gonna hurt.” 

With that, Pyka stepped backwards into the shadows of the tree. 

* 

Bog turned down the exit just as the sky had turned a deep sky blue pink, the lazy clouds stretched across the sky, and the air cooling enough that Marianne wished she had a jacket on. Bog had been brooding, his face set into a perpetual scowl. He had tried to remain optimistic, but as they drove she could tell that his mind had drifted somewhere else, somewhere dark, his positive mood fading. She was scared too, but she refused to let fear stop her. She was not going to let some sleazy demon come in and destroy that happiness she had suddenly been given with Bog. She loved him, damn it all. Life was unfair sure, but it couldn't be unfair all the time now could it, she thought. She had been through too much recently and had found someone who loved her for her, someone she found that she loved back passionately on top of it all. She wasn't about to let that go easily. This Devin thought he was hot shit—well he hadn't met her and he clearly had not met a woman in love who would fight for the man she loved. Hopefully though, Pyka would come through with a location for this Horned Witch who might actually give them something to work with beyond her own attitude. 

Marianne frowned and glanced over at Bog again. She had done everything she could think to try and get him to open up, maybe just relax a little, but nothing worked. He was scared, she could tell that easily enough and he wasn't used to having someone to talk to—or being in love with. He had centuries to be set in his ways, she understood that, but he needed to stop. Hhis brooding had gone on long enough and he had to understand—he had her now. 

They had been driving in relative silence for the last couple of hours and Marianne had tried everything she could think of to get him to talk. So her next option she decided was to try to get him to relax, then maybe talking would come easier. She leaned over and started to play with the radio stations. 

Bog looked sideways at her. “What're ye doing?” He blew out a circle of smoke from his cigarette as he spoke. 

Marianne didn't look at him. “Looking for something fun to listen to instead of your sullen silence.” 

“I'm not sullen,” Bog muttered. 

Marianne grinned a little until she finally found a song. The voice of Maggie Rose drifted out of the car's speakers. Marianne continued to smile as she picked up the tune, her lovely voice drowning out Maggie Rose's voice as she sang at Bog, a fun little song trying to seduce her demon. 

“I will be most anything you want 

I'll be your laughter 

I'll be your drama 

I'll be your best friend 

I'll be your lover 

You can be my baby anytime you wanna 

But I ain't your mama 

No I ain't your mama...” 

Bog frowned looking sideways at her. “What are you doing?” 

“I'm attempting to get you to think of something else besides being in a bad mood.” 

Marianne sang while running her hands over her breasts, squeezing them together and leaning over to make sure Bog got a good look. She gave him a flirty glance and licked her lips while she sang. 

“I won't be your boss 

I won't be the bad cop baby 

But I'll be the one you just wanna love like crazy...” 

She grinned merrily, pressing her front teeth into her lips giving him seductive glances. Bog completely forgot about his sour mood watching Marianne writhe in the seat next to him running her hands over her breasts and down her torso wiggling in her seat; she even ran her tongue down her finger suggestively. 

Bog groaned. “Will you stop that?” 

“Why...does it make you horny?” Marianne giggled at him as she continued her over-the-top seduction, sliding down in her seat, spreading her legs and running her hands up her thighs. “Do you have horns in your demon form Bog or are you just happy to see me?” 

Bog snorted. “Stop.” 

“Nope, not until you stop being such a grumpy goblin,” Marianne said. 

“A grumpy goblin? What the hell Marianne!” Bog burst out laughing. 

The next song had come on the radio which worked into Marianne's front seat performance. She sang along. 

“Stand on the bar, stomp your feet, start clapping 

I got a real good feeling something bad about to happen 

Drinks keep coming, throw my head back laughing 

Wake up… “ 

Bog shook his head, laughing at her just as he pulled into the parking lot for a local motel. “Okay, you seductress. I'll be right back.” 

Marianne watched him go into the main office with a smile. Good, it was working she thought. 

* 

They pulled around to the back of the Motel 8. Bog grabbed their bags and tossed the room key to her. Marianne smiled taking the stairs two at a time ahead of Bog and hurried to the room. It had grown darker, the light blue-black of early evening. Bog called behind Marianne. 

“What do you want for dinner?” 

Marianne put the key in the lock of their hotel room. “What's close? I didn't notice—I was busy.” She giggled. 

Bog had a slight laugh in his voice. “I didn't notice either.” 

Marianne pushed the door open turning to waggle her eyebrows at him. “Good.” 

Bog watched her disappear into the room, a slight smile tugging at his lips. He followed her in only to see that she hadn't bothered to turn on the lights. 

“Marianne?” Bog asked and his heart began to race slightly... 

“Over here Bog,” he heard Marianne's voice in the darkness. He dropped the bags and turned the light on to find Marianne laying on her side on one of the beds, completely naked already. The door to their room was still open. Bog let out an actual yelp and kicked the door closed a little too hard, the door slamming in its frame. It seemed to rock the whole motel. 

Marianne giggled. “So...how do you distract a grumpy demon?” 

Bog grinned. “That'll work.” 

Marianne hooked her finger. “Come here...you lady is summoning you.” 

Bog grinned and licked his lips, quickly removing his clothing. Marianne watched with a hungry smile, his body immediately showing her how much her seduction was working. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, shoving herself back against the wall, her legs bent and spread as Bog walked to the foot of the bed. The way he looked at her made Marianne's whole body burn. No one had ever looked at her with such hunger. Marianne dropped her finger down between her legs crooking her finger at him again. 

“Come here,” she purred. 

“Is that a command?” Bog asked, his eyes raking over her. 

Marianne's lips quirked in an adorable smile. “Oh yeah, it's a command.” 

Bog dropped his hands on the bed, then brought his knees up onto the mattress. He slowly crawled toward her, his eyes never once leaving her face. His blue eyes bore into her, turning her on more than anything else as he crawled closer. Marianne watched him, her eyes heated and her whole body vibrating just waiting for him to get closer. Her groin ached for him, her teeth pulled on her bottom lip her body responding to him. She felt a pull in her chest toward him as if an invisible string connected the two of them. When he was close he rose up on his knees and rested his hands on her knees spreading her legs wider. His eyes traveled down her body, his gaze like a caress over her breasts. She could feel his touch across her stomach even though he hadn't reached out to touch her yet. When his gaze stopped between her legs and he licked his lips, Marianne thought she could orgasm right that moment. 

“What else do ye command?” Bog asked, his voice husky. 

Marianne swallowed. Now that she had his undivided attention she felt a little...shy. No, not shy, she realized. More like not up to the task of commanding a demon. Bog brought his eyes back up to her with a quirk of his brow. Marianne's breath caught. “Lick me.” 

Bog grinned. “As you command.” 

He kept his eyes on hers and slowly lowered himself down between her legs. Marianne watched him, her lips pressed together, her heart hammering hard inside her chest. Bog dropped to his elbows between her legs. He opened his mouth wide, his tongue pressing against her in a slow easy lick up the entirety of her vagina. Marianne groaned loudly. No one had ever...never. Oh God, she thought then he did it again, a slow sensual lick followed by pressing his lips to her in a kiss. Marianne shivered. 

Bog smiled pressing his mouth to her, his tongue seeking and finding that sensitive spot. He delicately let the tip of his tongue caress over that spot. Marianne shuddered, letting out a passion-filled groan that made Bog grin from ear to ear. He gently moved his tongue up and down, up and down sliding between her intimate lips, making her slick with his saliva. He pressed his lips her again and this time he sucked just a little, just to see how she would react. 

Marianne gasped, her hips thrusting toward him. Bog grinned lopsidedly pressing his mouth to her and letting his tongue play over her in soft flicks, alternating with gentle sucks, then long slow licks from bottom to top. 

Marianne cried out gasping her orgasm vibrating up her torso from the point where his mouth pressed against her. She arched into his mouth. Bog sucked and licked with a little more force until Marianne was whimpering. “Oh stop, stop!! Oh Bog, too much!!” 

He sat back on his knees with a grin licking his lips. “Whatever ye say my lady.” 

Marianne melted back against the bed. Bog smiled. “Is there anything else you command?” 

Marianne grinned at him. “I want you Bog.” 

“I want you Marianne,” Bog said softly his voice tender. Marianne crooked her finger at him with a smile and motioned him closer. 

He scooted closer and lifted her legs up, gently laying them over his shoulders, then glided his hands down her soft legs before pulling her closer. The position felt a little strange, but Bog slid in closer and slowly, gently slid himself inside her. Marianne reached up to wrap her arms around his neck staring into his blue eyes as their bodies became one. Bog pulled her closer, his arms going around her and his hands sliding down to her hips, lifting her and pressing her to him. His mouth hungrily covered hers, his tongue playing tenderly along hers. 

Marianne let out a whimper of pleasure, her arms tight around his neck, kissing him with desperation as he thrust and moved her on his erection. Marianne continued to mewl and whimper; the position they were in had him deep inside her, so deep that she cried out arching back in his embrace, her orgasm rippling up her spine. “Bog!” 

Bog answered her with a moan of his own. “Marianne...my Marianne...” He thrust a few more time, deep and hard which had Marianne jerking and climaxing again in a matter of moments. Her eyes teared up as the physical and emotional feelings she had for Bog mixed and flowed over her, almost too powerful. Bog held her tight. “I love you Marianne. I love you so much.” Bog whispered against her neck, his head buried against her. He closed his eyes, feeling her pleasure surround him. 

After a few minutes, the two of them still holding each other, Bog rolled them to the side pressing her down into the mattress as he dropped her legs. Marianne wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands sliding down his arms. 

“I love you Bog,” she whispered huskily looking at him. Bog kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead before he kissed each of her eyes, taking the salt of her tears. 

“I love you Marianne. I will love you forever,” he whispered against her mouth before he started to move again, long deep thrusts into her body, slow and tender. Marianne thrust up to meet him stroking her fingers through his hair, tenderly kissing him. His movements gradually became quicker, her heart sped up to the swiftness of his thrusts, their passion building together. 

Bog grunted. “Marianne.” 

Marianne shuddered. “Bog...Bog...” 

They matched each other in rhythm and speed, Bog's thrusts slamming into her body until she cried out, tightening around him. Bog gasped as his orgasm was yanked from him. He groaned loudly as pleasure rippled through his body as he let himself go, expelling his essence into the woman he loved. 

They kissed, coming together as one. ,p>* 

Marianne was curled in the crook of Bog's arm, her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. “That is so weird,” she murmured. 

“What is weird?” Bog asked. He was half-heartedly watching the movie that was playing on the TV. They had bought a movie and Bog had run out, picked up some food from a local Mexican restaurant, promptly getting naked again to curl in the bed with Marianne. 

“Your heartbeat,” Marianne clarified. 

Bog chuckled. “Is the beat weird or do you mean because I have one.” 

“That you have one.” Marianne said softly with a kiss against his chest. 

“I'm alive...sort of,” Bog explained softly, twisting his fingers and a cigarette appeared. “Though some things are for show. I think part of it is that I know no other way to “be” than to breathe and have a heartbeat.” 

Marianne frowned at his words, but said nothing else about it. She watched the movie a little bit, her eyes growing heavy. 

She was about to fall asleep when Bog whispered. “I'm sorry.” 

Marianne came awake. “For what?” 

“My behavior earlier today. I'm...I'm not use to having a...partner.” Bog murmured running the tips of his fingers along her upper arm. 

“It's all right. But we can do this, together,” Marianne said softly. “I thought I didn't want to live anymore, but...you gave me a choice and now I want to live, more than anything, with you. I'll fight whatever heaven or hell throws at us for a chance to be with you.” 

Bog kissed the top of her head. “You give me strength Marianne. I will fight all the demons in hell to be with you,” he whispered softly. 

Marianne smiled and tightened her arm around his middle snuggling in closer, closing her eyes. “I love you.” 

Bog squeezed her tight. “I love you too tough girl.”


End file.
